


Love in the Time of Ragnarok

by disgruntledmango



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Characterizations, Crossover, F/M, Failed NaNoWriMo2019, Family Drama, Forced Marriage, Graphic Violence, Mentions Torture, Period Piece, Pre-Thor Thor, Two timelines, mild dubcon, non linear story telling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledmango/pseuds/disgruntledmango
Summary: The version where everyone dies, or do they? A dying seer named Hermione as the chosen one to stop Ragnarok. Hermione has never been one to believe in divination let alone prophecies, but she still finds herself millions of light-years away from home trapped in the machinations of Odin’s family. Forget Ragnarok, will she first survive the lies, deceits, betrayals, and whims of gods?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 79





	1. Prophecy

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted as Ragnarok a Love Story on FF.net. That version will be milder and won't exceed the M rating. On Ao3 though, the rating may go up to explicit for sexual content in later chapters.
> 
> Thor Ragnarok is one of my all-time favorite movies! It was perfect in my eyes ironically because it didn’t have the forced romance between Thor and Jane. It was just funny and adventurous.
> 
> My version will be the opposite. It will be darker, more violent, exploring the comics and mythology instead. Those of you that are familiar with either will probably know where I’m going with this story, but I want to emphasize that you don’t need to read them to understand the story. 
> 
> HP will be canon compliant starting from year six and diverges from there.
> 
> I will include chapter notes referencing comics and mythology at the bottom to avoid any confusion. I’m also happy to answer any questions. Most of you already know that I do reply to comments on here.

Odin marched through the large dimly lit corridor. It was empty. The hour was late. He was late. His strides were hurried and heavy. Upon reaching the vaulted doors at the entrance of the hall of Eir’s domain, the guards hastily opened the double doors before Odin barreled through them.

Frigga looked up from her vigil at Volla’s bedside. Her brave face betrayed a sense of apprehension when she looked up at her husband. His expression mirrored hers.

The doors behind Odin closed sealing in the secret that will come to pass between the sole occupants of the room. Even Eir herself was barred from entering. Heimdall nodded in respect to his king from his position by the window before returning his gaze to the stars above. 

“Has she spoke of the fate of Asgard?” Odin’s gaze fell on the elderly seer lying on her deathbed. White hair sprayed on the pillows, her eyes were closed. The slight rise and fall of her chest were nearly imperceptible. 

“Not yet, but her time is near,” Frigga responded her hands firmly clasped around Volla’s.

Odin approached the bed. As if sensing his presence Volla’s eyes opened. “The arms of Hel welcome me at last, my king,” she smiled weakly.

“You have served me well, Volla,” his tone somber and reverent. His hand reached out hovering over her face. “Now, I must ask you for this one last thing. The prophecy,” he breathed. The fact that they were gathered in this room to witness Volla’s death meant the steps to the impending apocalypse had already been set into motion. “We must hear it.”

Volla inhaled sharply and nodded feeling the power of the Odinforce. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Frigga gasped and stood.

Reinvigorated by the Odinforce, Volla’s body seemed to move on its own accord. She levitated over the bed mouth gaping open in a silent scream. A wind filled the closed room rustling the linens and curtains on the four-poster bed and fanning the flames of the dying hearth.

Frigga and Odin took a step back as Volla’s body descended back onto the bed. The room was still again as she spoke:

“Ragnarok will be neigh when the first frost of Fimbulwinter arrives. Food will be scarce. Wars will be frequent lasting as long as the wind and snow. Asgard’s destruction has been born two fortnights ago. A serpent that will grow to the size of the world and consume whole realms. A young wolf cub that grows every day and can speak the language of man will free Hela from her prison so she may rise with an army to invade Asgard.”

“We must fortify her prison in Helheim,” said Odin, but the King had already lost all of the Valkyrie when she was first captured. “Perhaps we should capture this wolf. Bring it to Asgard. Put it in chains.”

“You and I both know that prison won’t hold her forever.” Heimdall turned from his sentry at the window and spoke at last. “Loki is the cause of this.”

Odin’s head snapped in Heimdall’s direction. “You have my utmost respect, Heimdall, everything you have done has been in the service and safety of Asgard and its people. But have care with your words,” Odin warned the gatekeeper. “Loki is my son. This is a grave accusation you present.”

Frigga smoothed the hairs out of Volla’s face. “Let him speak, my love. We know not what our roles are in such prophecies and neither does Loki.”

Heimdall turned back to the visage of the stars before continuing.“Months ago he slipped into Jotunheim and bedded a frost giantess by the name of Angerboda.”

“What was he doing in Jotunheim? And why was I not alerted?” He looked at Frigga, “did you know about this?”

“Forgive me, my majesty. He eluded my sight momentarily. I fear his power grows. Look at what he has spawned. The giantess Volla speaks of died giving birth to these creatures. The Jotunn found the younglings feasting on her deceased body for nourishment in a remote cave. They are now in their custody. I’m afraid it will be impossible to take Loki’s children. At this time, anyway.”

“Could it be that they know of the prophecy? Asgard frozen in a prolonged winter primes it for an invasion. Our end is at the hands of the Frost Giants,” Odin said grimly.

“They have their own seers. It’s not out of the realm of possibility,” answered Frigga, the only one in the room interested in the well-being of Volla. She shifted the pillows trying to make her as comfortable as possible. 

Volla stirred raising her arm towards Frigga grasping her with all the strength she had left. There was still more to the prophecy.

Frigga grabbed a chalice of water from the bedside table bringing it up to Volla’s lips helping her drink. “Speak,” she commanded softly. “What is it?”

Volla took a small sip wetting her lips and throat. “There is one chance. A Midgardian witch born from ordinary mortals. She is fire much like Thor is thunder and Loki is ice. Their collective destruction shall bring about new life. She will give birth…” she started gasping for air, “to the one that will save us all.”

“Who fathers this child?” Odin demanded asking the all-important question.

Volla gripped Odin’s arm and looked directly at him.“Your son.” Volla stilled, the visions started to fade as did her life. This was her fate in the prophecy. A moment of silence followed when she passed.

It was Heimdall that broke the silence. “We must act fast. The witches on Midgard are being hunted and persecuted on a scale that I have not seen before. The tides of power are changing on Earth.”

Frigga picked up her skirts and approached Heimdall. “Heimdall, you have the gift of foresight as well. Do you know who this girl is?”

“Aye,” Heimdall affirmed. “My precognition is limited, but I do see who she is. And she is in danger.” 

“Summon Thor.”

~*~

Trygve was the unfortunate servant that was sent by Frigga to rouse Thor in the middle of the night.

Thor was many things. More outgoing and sociable than his introverted younger brother, he garnered many followers and admirers making him a natural-born leader. He was brave, strong, handsome, skilled in the art of war and lovemaking, which Thor himself viewed as a gift to the nine realms he protected and subsequently fucked his way through more than twice over. No one ever denied this spoiled prince of anything. Being Odin’s firstborn and worthy enough to lift Mjolnir meant he had been worshipped all his life. It inflated his ego to the high heavens, and he had a temper only matched by the tempest of thunder and lightning he rained on his enemies. Naturally, Thor being one of the strongest beings in the nine realms and quick to anger made him a lethal combination.

And that was why Trygve nervously stood outside Thor’s dwelling. He tentatively knocked on the door of the entrance, but there was no answer. He knocked again, this time with more force. He took a deep breath before entering the chambers. Nothing was amiss in the antechamber but as he progressed further toward the interior bedchamber he had to navigate around all the empty bottles and the discarded clothing until he happened upon all the naked bodies.

He tried to clear his throat. No reaction from anyone in the room. Whatever possessed him to step over the naked lady on the floor and in order to reach Thor’s bed, which was the scene of the aftermath of a drunken orgy, he later regretted. Thor laid face down his arm hanging off the edge of the bed. Before Trygve could gently nudge the prince on the shoulder, Thor’s arm snatched forward gripping Trygve’s throat. He melted into a quivering puddle then, his legs giving out from underneath him.

Thor remained frighteningly still before uttering, “who gave you permission to enter my chambers?” He opened one eye and fixed it directly on the servant.

Poor Trygve wheezed not able to get the words out.

Thor sighed and released him. Too tired, drunk, and spent to deal with the help right now, he closed his eyes.

Trygve fell back coughing. He wrapped his hand around his sore, bruised throat gasping for air. Catching his breath he said, “Sire, it’s the king. He asked me to summon you,” he swallowed painfully before continuing, “it’s of the utmost importance you come with me right now.”

Thor rolled over onto his back and stretched lazily. He sidled up in between his bed companions, who were both fast asleep and flanking him. “Very well then. Fetch me my clothes,” he said as he lazily trailed his fingers down the length of an exposed back while yawning. Trygve scrambled onto his feet relieved to be excused from Thor’s presence.

“Oh, and I want all of this cleaned up before I come back,” he said finally getting up. He stood to his full height and stretched his muscles rippling along his back and shoulders. Scratching the back of his head, he went to look for some leftover ale while completely starkers.

~*~

“Are you sure we should send Thor?” Frigga asked again. If gods were known for anything it was for their meddling. Whether it was playing with the inconsequential lives of humans or to avoid a fate seemingly set in stone. Evidently not even their own offspring were safe. Not even moments after Volla’s death, Frigga, Heimdall, and Odin were already on the Bifrost bridge scheming.

“Who else should we send? Thor is my true son.” That was how Odin decided to interpret Volla’s words, blood relation. That and now that they all knew what children Loki was capable of producing, he decided to of course favor Thor once again. 

Frigga bristled at that, “how can you say that? We took Loki in when he was but a babe.”

“And despite raising him as one of our own, look at what has happened. Loki has sired... monsters. Monsters that will destroy us!” Odin shook his head. “I think he knows. He knows that we are not his real parents,” he said, his paranoia betraying his age.

“He will if we turn our backs on him,” Frigga argued.

“We won’t. And we will not tell either of them about the prophecy until the time is right,” said Odin.

“You are right, my king. We mustn’t tell them more than they need to know. Prophecies have a way of self-fulling themselves,” Heimdall added.

“I don’t want to reveal anything to Loki especially his true parentage. It might drive him to the other side,” Odin continued. By now he was convinced that the Frost Giants were their ultimate downfall. 

But Frigga did not share Odin’s suspicions, not of the revelation of the prophecy. As a practitioner of magic, she had studied divination and understood that a level of secrecy was a must. She just didn’t trust her husband’s intentions. “Does Loki even know of the existence of his children?” she asked Heimdall.

Heimdall may be all-seeing, but he was not all-knowing. “He has not had contact with the giantess since he laid with her. And now he will not.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Odin said looking at Frigga, “for now at least.”

Frigga sighed, “fine, but I’m not so certain that we should send Thor.”

“Why not?” Odin said.

“Do I really need to explain?” Frigga placed her hands on her forehead massaging her temples. “Thor is arrogant, brash, and destroys everything in his path. He’s going to frighten this poor girl. They should meet under better circumstances than this.”

“Well, we can’t send Loki. He’s not even here! He’s never here because he’s always off creating mischief!” Odin exclaimed.

“That is true. The younger prince is currently trying to cheat the dwarves out of some magical jewels on Nidavellir,” Heimdall said.

“I didn’t say we should send Loki. I can go,” Frigga offered.

“No, she must be saved by Thor. She must fall in love with him, our lives and all of Asgard depend on it. It must be Thor ” Odin repeated with finality. “Besides, Thor loves a dame in distress. You are quite sure that she is pretty at least?” Odin turned to Heimdall.

“Yes, I would say so. When she is not being starved and beaten to death, she has quite a pleasing appearance.”

“That’s it,” Frigga threw up her hands. “I’m not waiting any longer. I shall go.”

Heimdall lifted his chin at the opening of the observatory where they saw Thor soared through the air with Mjolnir landing at the entrance. 

“Mother, Father, Heimdall,” Thor greeted. He spun his hammer in his hand before he slung it through his belt.

Odin and Frigga exchanged a heated look, and it seemed that Odin won this round.

“I have a task for you, Thor,” Frigga said marching up to Thor. “Down in Midgard is a young innocent girl facing her execution. I need you to save her.”

Thor raised his eyebrow. Unlike his younger brother, he was the son that rarely questioned anything. He charged in with Mjolnir first and rarely if ever dealt with the aftermath, but he wasn’t stupid. They have left Midgard alone for several centuries after defeating the Frost Giants deciding once and for all to leave Earth to man. “Why?”

“Because I am in need of another handmaiden,” Frigga answered promptly.

“You already have so many,” Thor pointed out. It seemed like such a trifling task to Thor saving a mortal. In his eyes, they were insignificant due to their weak composition and short lives.

Frigga placed her hand on Thor’s arm before explaining in half-truths, “she is a witch. Man has decided to eradicate her kind fearing their magic. Their magic is unique, and I would like to preserve it by bringing her here.”

“Since when did man kill witches so indiscriminately? Was it not so long ago they coexisted peacefully?” Thor asked. “Whatever happened to Merlin? Is he dead?” 

“Long dead,” Heimdall answered tonelessly.

“When they turned their backs on us, they also turned their backs on magic,” explained Frigga. “ They worship a new god now.”

“It is the weakness of man. They destroy what they perceive to be inexplicable, dangerous, and threatening,” Odin observed. He cannot believe he was about to let a mortal enter Asgard.

“Please, Thor,” Frigga asked again, “save her. She doesn’t deserve to die.”

“Just do as your mother says,” Odin said impatiently.

“Alright,” Thor nodded at Heimdall before disappearing in a flash of light.

Odin breathed a sigh of relief once Thor had gone. Had the prophecy indicated Loki, the conversation would have been much longer.


	2. Rescue

_ Earth 16th Century _

The Early Modern Period not to be confused with the late Middle Ages was a bad time to be a woman or a muggleborn, and the misfortune of being born both was an automatic death sentence. With the publication of the  _ Malleus Maleficarum, _ there was yet another revival of witch hunts to add to mankind’s bloody history of persecution under the guise of God’s will.

Unlike their muggle counterparts, wizards and witches lived without a ruling authority. Thus they simply existed amongst the ordinary folks. Some were feared and ostracized driven out of towns, while others were regaled and sought after for their magical powers to heal the sick or solve their mundane problems with a simple incantation and a swish of a wand. Then the Reformation happened to ignite a new zealous fervour endangering muggles and magicals alike.

One ambitious individual by the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle sought to save them all from the peril of man. Riddle was a born leader. Skilled, powerful, handsome, and charismatic, the half-blood gathered the richest and oldest wizarding families to form the Wizards’ Council. They became the de facto ruling class, the first of its kind in magical Britain. It set the foundation for the Wizenmagot and was the precursor to the Ministry of Magic. Riddle had big plans and to execute those plans he surrounded himself with his most loyal followers, the Death Eaters, named for Riddle’s quest for immortality, but publicly known for protecting wizards and witches from the widespread persecution and execution of their kind. The latter part was a stretch, but Riddle faced no opposition besides Dumbledore, who seemed too keen to avoid any positions of power. 

With the start of the witch hunt in the late 1400s, the Riddle and his followers finally found a reason to get rid of muggle-borns once and for all. The International Statute of Secrecy was still a century away, and the magical population was dispersed and vulnerable with Hogwarts being the only truly safe place. Riddle argued that a muggle-born’s non-magical familial ties put all of them at risk for exposure, but instead of tracking down these muggles and obliviating them they decided to snap the wands of said muggle-borns and erase their memories. If they were to experience any accidental magic, then the muggles would take care of that. Riddle promised his followers that their new society will be rid of mudbloods and eventually overtake all of Britain. 

Riddle issued a decree in secret and his followers carried them out on a crisp autumn evening. The purge started with Hogwarts. While Dumbledore was away, they stormed the school with relative ease as most were governours of the school and had access.

Minerva McGonagall hurried up the steps of the moving staircases. With the swish of her wand, they froze in place. The sounds of screams and reverberating spells followed closely behind her, and she realized was running out of time. 

“Everyone back to your dorms!” she barked. There were still students lingering in the halls and corridors even minutes before curfew. “No one is to leave their common rooms unless instructed by your head of house!”

“What’s happening, professor?”

“Longbottom! Where is Miss Granger?”

“Umm…” the nervous Hufflepuff stammered trying to remember where he last saw Hermione. Neville’s brain always froze when he was put on the spot like that. “We were in the dungeons studying with Harry.” Anytime Neville ever lost something or needed to find something he would retrace his steps out loud, and McGonagall didn’t have the time for that. 

“So she’s in the Slytherin Common room, then,” Minerva immediately turned around to go back down the stairs. There was no time left. The Deatheaters were on her heels and Minerva needed to get to Hermione before them.

“Wait, no! That was hours ago.” Neville ran after his professor. “Harry had to leave for quidditch practice, so we parted ways.”

“Well, where is she now?” Minerva snapped turning her head towards Neville. The severity of her stare could turn anyone into stone, and Neville was paralyzed by fear.

“Um..uh...The...The Ravenclaw tower! She said she had to work on her potion, I think.” 

“You think?” Minerva snapped.

“No! I know!” Neville quivered. “I promise, that was where she said she was going.”

Minerva huffed and stepped around Neville. “Get to bed! Now!” she called behind her. 

~*~

Hermione swept up her hair from the nape of her neck twisting it and tying it into a loose knot. She hovered over the bubbling potion scrutinizing its colour. Normally most potions smelled of some variation of decay, but this potion was designed to entice the drinker. Amortentia, her last potion’s assignment given by Snape, the only teacher at Hogwarts that seemed to despise her for no apparent reason. She was hardworking, talented, smart, and all-around an exceptional student. Yet at every turn, Snape gave the muggleborn witch the most challenging assignments purposely setting her up for failure. But to the surprise of no one even the Head of Slytherin House, Hermione rose to the challenge every time. She earned top marks in every single one of her class because it was the only way a young woman such as herself could prove her worth beyond a holding vessel for potential male heirs. 

She gingerly stirred the contents of the cauldron. The potion before her had no practical purpose other than to test her potion-making abilities as it was one of the most difficult ones to brew. Everyone knew that Hermione aspired to become a medi-witch and hoped to gain an apprenticeship with Madame Pomfrey at Hogwarts, a place she had called her home for the last seven years. It was all she talked about the last few years. 

Thumbing through the text, she sighed thinking what a travesty that such a potion should exist to trap someone against their will binding them to another person. She shook her head. All that awaited her at home at the end of her schooling was a marriage that was advantageous, but not of her choosing. Her father often lamented how cruel fate was for her to be born a girl instead of a boy. A bright mind like hers needed to be nourished, which was why he permitted her to attend Hogwarts.

When Hermione discovered that she was a witch, she was excited not only by the prospect of performing feats of magic but having the freedom to learn. She loved studying and by age seven she had read all the books in her family’s library. Her family was of modest means, her father being a well-respected doctor. But formal schooling was still reserved for males of wealthy families. She had dreamed of attending university, but Hogwarts exceeded her dreams and more.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the smell of leather, old tomes, and a familiar but unidentifiable scent as the potion turned from a shade of lavender to pearly pink. She nearly knocked over the cauldron when Minerva burst into the room without warning.

Startled, she stood from her bench, “Prof-”

“STUPEFY!”

Stunned Hermione fell to the floor stilled in her unconsciousness.

McGonagall raised her wand aiming it at her most promising student. Her wand arm wavered. She was not prepared for what she was about to do. It was something that was not easily undone. 

“Minerva! What are you doing?”

Minerva turned around to find Severus Snape, deputy headmaster, standing at the centre of the opened door she had burst through with his wand raised aimed at her.

“I won’t let them destroy her mind,” she responded firmly. “Those fools are going to obliviate her without any care. She’s not going to remember her name, how to speak, or how to feed or dress herself if I let them touch her!”

Snape was taken aback at how uncharacteristically emotional his colleague was, but he understood. He turned around to close the door. “Then let me do it. They won’t believe that you erased her memories. The students here talk, and they talk to their parents. The very governors that are storming the school right now. It is well known that she is your favourite.”

Minerva acquiesced stepping aside. Snape marched past her black robes billowing behind him. He knelt down by Hermione’s prone body and pointed his wand at her temple. Concentrating, he started a series of intricate spellwork. Memory was highly suggestive and the mind was amenable to suggestion. The mind could be easily tricked, but erasing seven years required more than a simple obliviate. He needed to craft enough key memories that stood out, so the ones he erased could be rationalized as forgetting due to time and age. 

Snape needed more time, but he did his best. He preserved what was at the core of Hermione Granger, her love of learning, her bravery, her steadfastness, her wiliness. He kept most of her memories of schooling intact replacing key details of subjects she studied erasing her memory of magic. To protect her and her parents he planted additional memories and suggestions. Her parents were now dead in her mind. He made sure that she would not return home, but find a way to continue her education away from the madness that was spreading throughout Europe.

Minerva vanished the potion with a wave of her wand before toppling over the cauldron. She pushed over the workspace spewing supplies and papers everywhere.

Snape finished the spell just as the Death Eaters arrived.

Lucius Malfoy removed his mask. “What have we here?” he asked as he took in the unconscious girl on the floor and the mess.

Snape stood up and turned to face Malfoy. “Hermione Granger. There was a struggle, but I handled it.” His stoic expression betrayed nothing and Malfoy seemed to have bought the lie.

“That is the last of them, Malfoy,” said Antonin Dolohov from behind his mask.

“Her wand,” Lucius extended his gloved hand.

“I’ll do it.” Minerva turned her back to them hiding her trembling hands. She squared her shoulders and walked over to where Hermione’s wand lay discarded on the floor. She picked it up feeling the smooth ash wood in her hand before snapping it in half. It broke in two exposing the sharp shaft of the phoenix feather. Blinking back the tears she pivoted towards Lucius. She laid the broken pieces in his hand and departed the room without another word.

~*~

Despite Snape and McGonagall’s best efforts and intentions, Hermione Granger was eventually caught and tried as a witch years later after the incident at Ravenclaw Tower. Snape had replaced her memories of Hogwarts with an education at a nunnery in England, which was common at the time for the wealthy middling class, it had, of course, closed down due to a pestilence forcing her to continue her education elsewhere. With her parents supposedly dead from the same pestilence in her mind and nowhere else to go, Hermione cut off all her hair and donned men’s garments. Armed with a letter forged by Minerva McGonagall (unbeknownst to her), she gained admittance to Cambridge University studying medicine.

She knew she had placed herself in a precarious position and did everything to prevent her secret from being discovered. She kept her head down and studied fading into the background. It physically hurt her to bite her lip every time one of her peers answered a question wrong because she knew every answer and could not boast about. To her credit, Hermione was her generation’s last remaining Muggleborn. She survived longer than anyone else during Riddle’s purge. But at last her mere presence seemed to have stirred up confusing, lustful feelings even among the good scholars of Cambridge.

A man, if he could even be called that, by the name of Dudley Dursley had discovered her secret. Pudgy faced, beady eyes that were too close together on his face, he was as homely as they come. The human personification of pudding with his jiggly limps and fat face. His corpulent body stuck out sorely amongst the starving peasants. But lucky for him, he was also the son of a nobleman with deep pockets as he had spent over ten years at Cambridge without passing a single term. His father had single-handedly financed the building of an entire courtyard to keep him in school because as he would proclaim, his precious Dudleykins deserved the best.

One night Dudley tried to sneak into Hermione’s quarters intent on acting on the lust that had driven him mad with guilt and shame. The door was locked, of course. So he tried a window, only to discover as he peered through the small gaps of the curtains watching her undress herself for bed that she was not a man at all. 

Relieved that he was not a poofter as that was punishable by torture and death, he held off his plans of sexual assault until their wedding night, because after all, he was a good Protestant man with a deep sense of morality. Which was why he tried to blackmail her into marrying him. The next day he confronted her in the library and had asked for her hand in marriage in exchange for keeping her secret. When Hermione refused him expressing her outrage at the violation of her privacy and person. So when she refused and walked away, he did what any slighted man did in that time, cried witch.

Hermione was arrested as she fled the small township. As all witch trials go, a confession from the accused was required and obtained in any way fit by the prosecuting party. Hermione did not confess as she was starved and deprived of water. They kept her awake for days and not a word was uttered. Frustrated by the lack of confession, they tied her to a chair and dunked her into the lake repeatedly; and she still did not break even as her bones did when her inquisitors decided to strap her to a rack, a torture device that pulled on her limbs ripping her tendons and muscles. The memory spell broke finally after nearly a week of torture, on the day of her execution Hermione realized that she was a witch and that her favourite teacher, mentor, and mother figure had betrayed her.

The irony was not lost on Hermione. Wandless and weak from the torture inflicted on her, she could not save herself. Hermione laughed breathlessly as she was carried to the stake, hysterical tears running down her face. She could not walk or stand on her own anymore. The guards paraded her in front of a crowd of angry townsmen including her peers and teachers at Cambridge. They shouted, “BURN IN HELL, WITCH!” as well as other unmentionable expletives.

“What is it that you are laughing at?” demanded Dolores Umbridge, the head inquisitor. “Do you understand the severity of your crimes?” 

Hermione continued to laugh. 

“You impersonated a man. Illegally attended university seeking knowledge not reserved for the likes of you. You seduced good god-fearing men leading them to believe they were homosexuals,” Umbridge accused. “Do you deny these charges?” Umbridge’s righteous outrage only made Hermione laugh harder.

“That hardly makes me a witch,” Hermione said her eyes glinting. “If I were a witch, I would have cursed and killed all of you,” she said bitterly knowing she was betrayed by her own kind. People she had trusted and left to burn at the hands of muggles. 

“You will burn for your sins as God is my witness. Tie her up,” Umbridge ordered.

They carried her up the raised platform and tied Hermione to the stake. A guard carrying a torch lit the kindling at her feet. The heat from the flames was immediate, but it was a distraction from the pain of her own internal injuries. She had thought for sure she would have died from them before burning at the stake.

“Pansy Parkinson, if that is even your name.” It was not, but victims of torture tended to lie under duress. “You are guilty of heresy, colluding with the devil, practising witchcraft, inciting lust in the hearts of men, and hereby sentenced to death!” Umbridge proclaimed loudly. The crowd roared with bloodlust.

“Kill her!”

“Burn the bitch!” 

“Send her back to hell!”

Hermione’s tired eyes followed the trail of the smoke. Looking up at the sky, the jeers and noise from the crowd faded into the background. She thought about her parents, whether they were still alive. How she wished she could have seen them again. She thought about Harry and Ron and wondered if they were looking for her. She felt a few droplets of water splatter on her cheek. At first, she thought they were her own tears, but then all of a sudden the sky darkened ominously as the storm clouds gathered overhead. 

Flashes of lightning appeared in the clouds followed by the sound of thunder silenced the crowd. Everyone looked up to the heavens as the rain came down in waves drowning the flames. Then a single bolt of lightning struck Dudley Dursley, his body exploded raining flesh, burnt fat, and blood all over the crowd. The panic was immediate and all order was lost.

Thor descended from the sky. Using Mjolnir he summoned a volley of lightning; it struck everywhere but the stake Hermione was tied to. Chaos all around, the spectators ran for their lives thinking it was the end of days. The smell of singed flesh polluted the air as the screams grew louder combined with the thunderous roar from the sky. They slipped and crawled frantically in the mud, turned red with their own blood and thickened as it mixed with the rain.

At the appearance of Thor, Umbridge dropped to her knees making the sign of the cross. She begged for mercy mistaking that the beautiful but deadly man in front of her was some kind of holy deity, an angel of God bringing judgment upon them. “Please,” she beseeched. “I am pure. My soul is pure. Spare me. I have been absolved of all sins.” She pulled at the crucifix around her neck as if that were proof.

Of course, her words meant nothing to Thor, but he deigned to ask, “if you are so pure of heart then why are you murdering an innocent girl?”

“I am doing God’s work. I am purging this land of evil. She is evil!” Umbridge screeched pointing a stubby finger at Hermione who was drifting in between consciousness but still tied to the stake. “Kill her! She is a witch!”

Thor threw back his head laughing. Then he was silent, his expression darkening into a menacing hunger not unlike a predator about to devour his prey. He took a few steps forward casting an ominous shadow over Umbridge. “And that is why she will be spared.”

Umbridge’s mouth dropped in a horrified scream as Thor brought Mjolnir down upon her head. Shards of skull and brain matter splattered against the wet floor of the pulpit. 

Thor turned around surveying his handiwork. Not a single soul escaped his wrath. When he looked upon Hermione, she raised her head to meet his eyes. Her expression was not fearful, but curious.

Thor walked to the stake, his strides long and swift the rain falling gently now. Gripping the thick rope that bound her with his bare hands they broke into spindly fibres underneath his fingers. He caught Hermione in his arms before she collapsed to the ground. She was practically weightless in his arms. Kneeling down he laid her across his lap supporting her head and neck. Clad in a shapeless dirty grey tunic, she looked so small and frail. Thor brought his hand to her face and surprised himself at how gentle he was as he touched her skin. It was wet and slick from the rain. 

“Who are you?” she asked eyes drooping, voice hoarse and quiet. 

“I am Thor, son of Odin. God of Thunder. I’m here to take you to Asgard,” Thor said unceremoniously.

“Oh,” was her response before her head rolled back, and she blacked out.

_ Earth Present Day _

Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. Her curtains around her four-poster bed were still drawn, no light peeking through. It was still dark. There were more hours left to sleep, but she had woken up to the sound of Lavender sneaking in way past curfew giggling to herself. Hermione looked down to see her pillowcase was damp and sighed. She cried herself to sleep once again despite swearing to herself that she would never be the type of girl to cry over a boy. Reaching for her wand from underneath her pillow, she whispered a quick drying spell before flopping back down on her bed. 

She placed the back of her hand on her forehead. Lately, strange dreams had been plaguing the muggleborn witch. She blamed it on stress and her brain working in overdrive. They weren’t necessarily bad dreams, but there was a vivid realness that disturbed her as if they weren’t dreams, but memories. Hermione snorted thinking that she must have gone mad.

The next day before breakfast she stopped by the library because that was her answer to everything, except how to get over a boy she fancied, she couldn’t find anything on that subject matter short of dousing Ron with Amortentia.

She reached for a dusty book called  _ Lives Lived Past, Present, and Future  _ written by an Italian witch called Lucrezia de’ Rossi. She was a seer who wrote detailed accounts of her past lives. Hermione opened it perusing it casually. The witch claimed she was born into the Medici family in 1448 and frequently had visions of her future lives. Supposedly she wrote letters to her future self knowing exactly where she was to be reborn. Remarkably she stayed within her family in almost every generation she returned. Sometimes her name was Lucrezia, sometimes it was Caterina or Luisa. There was some confusion as family names were often passed down. Not to mention because Italy was largely a patriarchal society meaning the bloodline tracked the males, while the record-keeping for females was somewhat laxer. Names sometimes disappeared from history altogether. 

It was interesting, but Hermione was not one to believe in reincarnation. Though since stepping into the wizarding world and meeting real live ghosts, she recognized the existence of souls. It was reaffirmed when she encountered the dementors that consumed them in her third year.

However it did beg the question, where does the soul go when the body finally dies? Either there was an afterlife or perhaps the soul takes another form while still on Earth. Even physicists have a law for that, the Conservation of Mass-Energy.

Many muggle religions claimed to have the answer, yet even wizards and witches don’t have anything definitive. Not even the ghosts that haunt Hogwarts knew what lies beyond death too afraid to take that step damning themselves to an eternity of haunting a magical school full of adolescents. There have been firsthand accounts of witches, wizards, and even ordinary muggles remembering their past lives. The only problem was that it was impossible to prove hence Hermione’s scepticism. People could claim they were Alexander the Great, Joan of Arc, or Anne Frank because there were historical texts on these figures.  _ But what about Norse Gods? _ She thought back to her strange dream where she felt herself dying in the arms of a god. 

Hermione reshelved the book and traced her fingers along the old tomes in the history of magic section stopping when she felt the embossed text,  _ Poetic Edda.  _ She pulled the book out and thumbed through the pages. It was written in Old Norse. A quick translation spell rendered it readable for her eyes. There was a story of Thor crossdressing to win his hammer back from the Giants. A tale of Loki giving birth to an eight-legged horse. She skipped to the end. “Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods,” she read to herself.

“Hermione? What are you doing here?”

Hermione closed the book and tucked into her robe before greeting Harry. “It’s the library. I’m always here. I should ask you the same.” She took one look at Harry’s dishevelled appearance and asked, “did you sleep alright last night?”

Harry ran his hand through his messy hair, which was an indication that he did not. “No, I keep having those dreams.”

Hermione sighed, “me too.”

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. How are you? You never told me what you were doing here this early in the morning. Does it have anything to do with all those meetings with Dumbledore?” She noticed he had come from the direction of the restricted section with his invisibility cloak tucked securely under his arm. In his hand was a copy of  _ Advanced Potion Making,  _ which Harry cannot seem to part with for even a moment. 

Harry sighed his shoulders slumping. “Just more memories of Tom Riddle.” The prominent dark circles underneath his eyes were a result of sleeping no more than a few hours at night uninterrupted. He even developed a twitch around his left eye. “Really wish he didn’t come back. It would make my life so much easier if he could just stay dead.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. 

“Harry,” Hermione hugged him even though Harry wasn’t averse to physical contact, but he never sought it out. “Let’s get you something to eat.” She put her arm around his shoulder and led him away from the shelves, “and maybe stop by Madame Pomfrey after for some dreamless sleep potions.”

That got him to smile. “I think I would die without you, Hermione,” Harry said leaning against her as they walked out of the library arm in arm.

“I know.” Hermione smiled the side of her head tilting onto his shoulder. They strolled along the corridor enjoying the quietness of the early morning.

“‘Hey, do you have a date for Slughorn’s party?” Harry said suddenly.

Surprised, Hermione looked up.“Um...Actually…”

Harry shrugged, “I mean it’s alright if you do. I just thought we could go as friends.”

Hermione closed her eyes. “I wished you had asked me sooner.”

“Why? Are you going with someone?” Harry asked stopping abruptly. “Who?”

Hermione hesitated a beat before answering, “Cormac McLaggen.” She regretted saying it out loud as soon as the words left her mouth. She also regretted asking him in the first place.

Harry’s eyebrows migrated up his forehead, “oh. I didn’t know that you and him we-”

“I’m only going with him to make Ron jealous.” She detached herself from him and looked away avoiding Harry’s baffled expression.

“Or you know, you could always just tell him how you feel,” Harry suggested. When Hermione and Ron fought, Harry always ended up in the middle and the boy who lived already had too much on his plate.

Hermione huffed and stormed off leaving Harry, “he knows how I feel.”

“Um. I don’t think he does, Hermione,” Harry called after her.

“It doesn’t matter now. He’s too busy snogging Lavender Brown to care anyways.” Her oxfords clicked along the stone floor, while Harry quickly caught up to her.

“That’s because Lavender told him how she felt,” Harry paused,” or rather, she showed him. You know how Ron is. You can’t just leave him passive-aggressive hints and expect him to pick up on it.”

Hermione turned around and sighed loudly indicating that she was done with the conversation. “Harry, I don’t think you’re in any position to offer me advice.”

“What?” Harry scoffed clearly not appreciating Hermione dismissing what he thought was a very simple solution.

“Ginny?” Hermione gave him a knowing look.

“That’s different!” Harry countered. “It’s complicated.”

Hermione tilted her head and narrowed her eyes sceptically, “is it?”

“Yes!” Harry stared at her as if she was overlooking something very obvious. “She’s my best mate’s little sister. Plus she’s already dating Dean Thomas. Not to mention,” Harry gave her his best tragic hero look, “I can’t let anyone close to me without worrying what will happen to them.”

Hermione shook her head. “I know you still blame yourself for Sirius’ death.”

“It was my fault. If I had only listened to you then he wou-”

“It’s no use in dwelling on what we should have done now.” She placed a hand on his arm. “It won’t bring him back. I hope you can forgive yourself one day. I know Sirius would want that too.” She gave him another hug. “I have to get to class.” Hermione walked off to her first-period Ancient Runes leaving Harry alone in the empty corridor.


	3. Revelation

_ Asgard Pre-Ragnarok _

“Is this the girl?” Odin asked sceptically when Thor arrived back at the observatory with Hermione in his arms. He took one look at her shaved head and said, “she looks like a boy. Are you sure you brought back the right person?”

Frigga scowled coming up behind Thor, “don’t pay any attention to your father. He lost his one good eye to the Frost Giants.”

Odin harrumphed, but Frigga ignored him. “Let’s take her to Eir,” she said. “Quickly, we don’t have much time.”

Once inside the glittering gold halls where moments ago Volla passed, Thor laid Hermione down on the examination table. She looked almost like a human sacrifice placed upon an altar. The healers gathered around her assessing the damage.

“She is very weak,” Eir, the head healer said. “Her internal injuries are grave. Her muscles are torn, bones broken, organs ruptured. Your majesty, I fear we would only prolong her suffering. She is bound for Hel already.”

Frigga sighed heavily, “she is in worse condition than I thought.” But then she had an idea. A way to save Hermione’s life and to bring her closer to Thor. “Thor, give me your hand.”

Thor allowed his mother to take his hand and place it on Hermione’s heart. “I can barely feel anything,” he said already deeming this whole rescue a lost cause. “She’s going to die.”

“Not if I can help it. In theory, this should work,” explained Frigga. “Any lesser magical being be it a nymph, faery, mage, or even a witch can be saved from the brink of death by something more powerful.” Asgardians were on the whole much stronger than humans, and Thor being a god had an exceptionally powerful life force. It made him one of the strongest beings in the nine realms and near impossible to kill. Frigga looked directly at Thor, “you save her now and her life is yours. As soon as I perform the spell, it should revive her, and she will be bound to you until she fulfils her duty. Do you accept this?”

Thor nodded despite not fully understanding the implications of such an agreement, but he went along with it anyways. It would be a waste of his efforts if the were to girl die now.

Frigga placed her hand over Thor’s and whispered a complex incantation she had not used in centuries. A burst of red light surged into Hermione. Her body flexed her back arching off the stone table. They stepped back and watched her hair grow into long loose tresses framing her once emaciated face. The colour returned to her skin as her flesh plumped up her starved form while her bones and tissues knitted themselves closed.

Frigga searched her body looking for a sign. She searched her arms and found the mark of a flame on her right wrist. “It worked,” Frigga confirmed with a sigh of relief.

Hermione gasped and shot up as her life returned to her.

Blinking and focusing her eyes, Hermione saw the grand golden columns in the Hall of Eir and her first question was, “am I dead?” Because despite all of Umbridge’s damning indictments, Asgard looked a lot like heaven to a mortal like Hermione.

“No, my dear. You are safe,” Frigga responded taking her hand gently. She dismissed the healers leaving them alone with Hermione.

Still bewildered she looked from Frigga to Thor to the rest of her surroundings. She had never seen so much beauty in one place. “Where am I?”

“Asgard,” Thor answered folding his arms. “I told you that I would bring you here.”

“Let’s start with introductions,” Frigga broached gently. “I am Frigga, All-Mother and Queen of Asgard. You have already met my son, Thor. I asked him to bring you here. Heimdall, whom you will meet shortly saw that you were in danger, so we intervened,” Frigga explained.

None of that assuaged Hermione’s confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Thor grunted, “what’s not to understand? You were in danger. I saved your life. A thank you would be in order.”

Hermione tensed. Her expression guarded. She was grateful to be alive, but she never wanted to be the mercy of anyone let alone the possibility of owing a life debt. The magic surrounding such obligations were shrouded in mystery and not well understood. “Thank you,” Hermione said tersely. “But I still don’t understand what you want with me. My knowledge of the gods may have only come from books, but Christian or Pagan, you never do anything unless you want something in return.” 

“Indeed,” Odin interrupted making his appearance at last. “You are a clever girl. We saved you for a reason. That reason will become clear in the future. As for now, you are a subject of Asgard. You will submit to my rule and serve my family.”

“You must be Odin,” Hermione inferred easily after learning of Thor and Frigga. Her tone was neither impolite nor reverent. “Allfather and King of Asgard.”

“And what do they call you?” Odin asked he circled the slight girl scrutinizing her with his one good eye. Odin surprised everyone letting her indecorum slide just this once.

“Hermione Granger...your highness,” she bowed her head slightly. She was not without manners after all. She felt like a spectacle sitting on the marble table with their eyes on her. “My family held no titles, but my father was a doctor. His salary afforded me an education,” Hermione said hoping she wouldn’t be relegated to chambermaid, servant, or worse a concubine.

“We know you’re a witch,” Frigga said, “I was raised by witches. I have selected you to be my handmaiden. You may think of me not only as your queen but your teacher.” She waved her hand transforming Hermione’s dirty tunic into a simple cream dress her ladies in waiting at the beginning of their training normally wore. 

Hermione felt the fabric beneath her mended fingers, it was soft and smooth. It was the finest piece of clothing she had ever worn. She relaxed feeling the tension she didn’t even know was there leave her body. She was relieved. A lady in waiting was perhaps the best station she could obtain even on earth, and those were usually reserved for nobility. She acknowledged that she could do a lot worse.

“And I will do my best to serve you,” her eyes travelled from Frigga to Odin to Thor. “As a show of my gratitude for saving me,” she bowed her head in respect even though the idea of her life being bound to them deeply unsettled her. Hermione was determined to survive this. She was a bright witch, but even she could not fathom the role she would play within Odin’s family and on the larger stage, Ragnarok. 

~*~

True to her word, Frigga did teach Hermione magic. After all, it wouldn’t do them any good to leave the saviour of their world defenceless. It was more difficult than both of them had anticipated. Thankfully for Frigga, Hermione was a hard worker and extremely eager to learn. Magic was a means to an end and both of theirs were capable of accomplishing the same thing, and while their styles were not wholly incompatible, but it was still a challenge for both teacher and student. 

To Frigga’s dismay, Hermione had been taught to rely on a wand with a magical core leaving her defenceless without one. They didn’t have those here even though magical objects were in abundance. Thor wielded Mjolnir. Odin carried a staff called Gungnir. Heimdall’s sword opened the Bifrost. Such objects were solely possessed by the royal family or other highly ranked persons. Frigga saw a wand as a serious handicap, so Hermione had no choice but to adapt to her teachings.

Frigga started with simple magic that Hermione could do even without a wand. 

“Concentrate,” Frigga instructed. She stood over Hermione watching her. 

It made Hermione a little nervous, but she concentrated on the candle before her, “incendio.”

An orange and red flame appeared at the end of the wick.

“Good,” Frigga said, “now once more without speaking.” She blew out the candle.

“Yes, my queen.”

Hermione held her hand over the candle and silently willed the flame to appear. It flickered and disappeared with a trace of smoke. She frowned and tried it again. The perfectionist in her grew increasingly frustrated and it showed.

Frigga placed a hand on her shoulder, “relax, it’s just a spell.”

“I used to do this so easily,” said Hermione, “now without my wand, I feel like I’m in my first year of Hogwarts again.”

“Did you think your learning was complete because your schooling was finished?” Frigga asked neutrally.

“No,” Hermione frowned, “I just didn’t expect to regress so much. It was just much easier to study books, memorize spell enunciations and wrist movements. It’s easier to focus my magic that way.”

Frigga nodded emphatically, “I understand that may have been the way you were taught. But to rely on an instrument that could be so easily lost or broken is not wise. A wand is merely a tool.” The queen acknowledged that Asgardian magic was different than what her protege learned on Earth. Their magic was much more intuitive and suited for battle intended to distract, harm, and defend against enemies or to heal themselves while in combat. In contrast, Midgardians possessed a much bigger lexicon of spells mainly used to ease their harsh lives as mortals. There seemed to be a spell for everything from cleaning, mending broken objects, cooking food, to changing an animal such as a hedgehog into a pincushion. It spoke of how inventive mortals were with magic to come up with so many spells that Asgardians would have no use for. Fortunately, Asgard’s vast libraries contained an abundance of written material for spellwork prior to the advent of wands. Not even Hogwarts contained such books because much of it was gathered before Asgard withdrew from Midgard. It was clear to the queen that much had changed in their absence on Earth.

“I know,” said Hermione. “Wandless magic isn’t entirely unheard of where I’m from.” She didn’t know anyone other than Dumbledore who was capable of wandless magic, and yet he still relied on his wand. “It’s just... more difficult to master. My school didn’t even teach it. We didn’t start using nonverbal spells until my sixth year of training, and we only had seven years at the school.” 

“I see.” Frigga inferred that the short lifespan of mortals limited what they could master in their lifetime. The wand was perhaps an invention to circumvent that. Mortals did not even have the luxury of millennia or even centuries to learn magic and all its subtleties. “Is it not easier to write with a quill or paint with a brush? Why do without? It might have been easier to teach a larger group of students with varying skill levels. Otherwise, they may not be able to use magic at all. You needn’t be so hard on yourself. You were able to conjure the flame before, so that means you are capable,” Frigga said. “You will recover your magic fully. I have the utmost confidence in you.”

Hermione smiled, she had always craved the approval of authority figures whether it was her parents or her teachers. “Thank you, my queen.”

A knock interrupted their lesson. Hermione immediately got up to answer the door. She was greeted by a beautiful redheaded woman. Hermione could tell by the quality of the robes that she belonged to a higher class, perhaps not nobility, but certainly above her station.

“You must be Hermione, the Midgardian witch.” Eyes bright, she clasped her hands together excitedly.

“Um...yes,” Hermione said caught off guard by her directness and overt friendliness. She knew she was the only mortal living in Asgard and guessed that everyone else was aware too.

“I’m Fulla, pleased to make your acquaintance.” Her green eyes sparkled, and she wore a mirthful smile that Hermione didn’t know what to make of.

“I suppose you’re not here to see me,” Hermione jested awkwardly.

“No, I require an audience with the queen,” she beamed. “But it is an honour to meet you.”

“Oh, same to you.” Hermione awkwardly stepped aside to let her in.

“Fulla,” Frigga greeted. “Hermione, I have a list of books for you to retrieve for me from the library. You may take your time and explore. I just require you to be back here before dinner.” She handed her a piece of parchment.

“Yes, my queen,” Hermione gave a quick curtsy before exiting the room barely able to contain her excitement. She was basically given the afternoon off to explore Asgard’s libraries.

“So, she’s the one?” Fulla said after the door closed behind them, leaving the two of them alone. As Volla’s former apprentice, she had already seen Hermione in her visions. Though her sight was far more limited, it brought her hope to see the witch. Any seer who foretells Ragnarok was cursed to die. Such was the fate of Volla, but fortunately for Fulla, she only saw a glimpse of the aftermath.

“Yes,” Frigga folded her hands primly. “What brings you here, Fulla?”

“I am here to deliver an object I found in Volla’s possession. It was addressed to you.” She reached into her robe and pulled out a small jewellery box and presented it to the queen. “I believe it will only open at your command.”

“And you do not know what is inside?” Frigga studied the box thoughtfully running her fingers along the delicate engravings. There was a seal on the box with her name on it. 

Fulla shook her head, “no, my queen. But you should open it sooner rather than later.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling,” her eyes glimmered, “I will take my leave now, your majesty.” Fulla dismissed herself with a curtsey and slipped out of the room leaving Frigga all alone.

Frigga carefully sliced opened the seal with her magic, but as soon as she lifted open the lid, it instantly transported her to a dark frozen wasteland. The terrain was unfamiliar to her, and Frigga instantly knew she was no longer in Asgard. She pulled her cape tight around her body against the bracing wind and snow.

“Heimdall!” she called. She waited, but nothing happened. “Heimdall!” she yelled again. 

Wherever she was, Heimdall could not see her, which did not bode well for her. Looking down at the box, it was sealed again and would not open not even when she used her magic. She took a deep breath knowing panic would only make things worse. Scanning her surroundings she spotted a cave. 

Seeking shelter from the storm, she entered the cave not fully prepared for what she was about to find. Frigga found a stick and lit it with her magic illuminating the interior of the cave. Upon examining it further, she realized that she definitely wasn’t alone. There were animal remains and a den with furs. 

“This is most unexpected.”

Startled, Frigga turned around brandishing the flame.

“The Queen of Asgard in my home,” Farbauti emerged from the shadows. Female frost giants were smaller, but on average twice as large as an Asgardian, so when Farbauti said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Frigga was not convinced. Still not letting her guard down, she took a slight step back. “You know who I am?”

“Of course, you’re the woman that raised my son.”

“You’re Loki’s mother?” Frigga maintained her composure despite just receiving the shock of her life. Of course, she knew that Loki came from a Frost Giant, she just never imagined that she would meet her.

“I am Farbauti, wife of Laufrey.” She bared her teeth, whether it was a smile or a threat, the gesture was lost on Frigga.

“How did you know who I am? Were you expecting me?” Frigga gripped the small jewelled box in her hand tightly.

Farbauti laughed. It sounded hollow. “You’re so arrogant to think that only your kind has the gift of sight.” She paused and examined Frigga sizing her up. “I should ask, what are you doing here?”

Frigga let out a shuddering breath that crystallized in the freezing air. “I do not know. I don’t even know how I got here.”

“I’ve imagined this moment. Meeting you. The wife of Odin.”

“I suppose you’re going to take me to Laufrey,” Frigga said stiffly. “My capture will yield the most handsome ransom.”   
  


Farbauti laughed again. “Yes, you would an effective bargaining tool, but I’m not going to take you to my husband.”   
  


“Why not?”

“I told you. I will not harm the woman who raised my son. Consider us even. Had you and Odin not taken him in, he would have lived with the stigma.”

Frigga frowned, “because he was smaller than the rest of the Frost Giants?”

“No, because he was a product of rape.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand.”

“I was captured during the war. A number of us were. You see we fight on the battlefield alongside our husbands. And  _ your _ husband ordered his men to rape us. None of them wanted to, not because they were pure of heart and thought of themselves above rape, but because they were disgusted by our very appearance. But as you know Odin is half Jotunn. Something your husband tries to hide, no doubt.”

“I know Odin is not without his faults…” Frigga began defensively.

“Quiet!” Farbauti silenced. “You should know that your husband raped me.” She let that sink in, but Frigga’s face remained unreadable. “I do not know why. Not when he had such a beauty waiting for him at home,” she sneered. “Perhaps it was to humiliate Laufrey.”

“I…” Frigga wanted to apologize but knew such a gesture would never even begin to right the grave wrong that was done to her. It would also mean little coming from her, the wife of her rapist.

“Because when Loki was born, small for his size, Laufrey took one look at him and knew that he wasn’t his,” Farbauti continued. “He cast him out to die and attempted to kill me. I planned for Loki to be found by Odin because I knew he would never be safe here.”

Frigga’s chest heaved from the growing tightness. “So Loki is really Odin’s son?” she asked in disbelief. “Odin has never acknowledged Loki as his true-”

“Odin wouldn’t know. He had assumed his men had followed his orders. There would have been a number of nameless bastards born during the war. I started the rumour that he was Laufey’s son abandoned for his small size. I needed him to think that my son could be of use and because I wanted you to accept him as your own and not a bastard from an extramarital affair.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Farbouti was silent while she considered her next words. “Because you love Loki like he is your true son.”

“He is my son,” Frigga corrected sharply. “This changes nothing.”

“Exactly,” Farbauti nodded. “I thought you deserved to know the truth.”

Frigga didn’t know what she was going to do with that information. It shouldn’t change anything because Loki was their son. They raised him from a babe. Then it hit her, the prophecy. Of course, it crossed Frigga’s mind that Farbauti could be lying to her. Then again she had already professed that she had no intention of taking her to Laufrey, who would no doubt forgive his estranged wife for the capture of the Asgardian queen.

As if Farbauti had read her mind, “what you choose to do with this information is at your discretion. Our time is up.” Farbauti turned her back on Frigga, “walk straight out this cave and head south,” she instructed. “You should be within sight.” Then she disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

Frigga picked up her skirt and hastily exited the cave following Farbauti’s instructions trudging through the snow. The light of the Bifrost caught her off guard as she was transported back to Heimdall’s observatory. 

“Where were you?” Heimdall asked. “I could not see you.”

“Fulla found a cursed object addressed to me leftover from Volla.”

“Oh,” was Heimdall’s reply. He remained still, his hands resting on the hilt of his sword.

“It transported me to a place I didn’t know and where you couldn’t see,” Frigga lied. “I just need to dispose of this object before anyone else touches it.” She still carried the box in her pocket.

“Is that all?” Heimdall narrowed his eyes.

“Yes.” Frigga was about to leave but then thought better of it. “Can you please tell Loki to come home?” she asked Heimdall. “Don’t force him,” she added knowing if Heimdall beamed Loki up with the Bifrost without warning it would only imply a sense of urgency and may make Loki suspicious. “You know how he is. He doesn’t do anything when ordered. Just tell him I miss him greatly and would like to see him.”

“I will, my queen,” Heimdall nodded. He turned his gaze back to the night sky scanning for the Loki.

_ Space Present Day _

An alarm sounded on the ship setting of the blinking lights. _“_ Halt! You are approaching Maniaciano Outpost Planet Ursor 4,” the radio communicated, “please state your name and purpose for visit.” The monitor remained black, the voice was faceless.

Carol pressed the mic button on her console.“This is Captain Carol Danvers. I am piloting a civilian ship with refugees. We are stopping for supplies.” They hovered in space just outside the gravitational field of an orange planet roughly the size of Earth. No other ships were present, so she assumed if they made an unauthorized landing, they would be shot out of the atmosphere.

“How long will you be staying?” The pitch of the voice was perfectly neutral. It gave Carol some hope.

“No more than a day hopefully,” answered Carol.

“Please identify the species of refugees on board as well as the number.”

Talos looked at her from the co-pilot seat. He changed his appearance to impersonate Keller.

“Humans. We’re from Earth. There are fifteen civilians plus me, so sixteen.” Carol rubbed her temple. This was the third planet they had attempted to land on.

“You are quite far from Terra,” the voice commented.

“Yes, we are,” Carol said impatiently. “And we are low on supplies.”

There was a lengthy pause. “Your entry has been granted. Please stay on the line as I transmit the landing coordinates to your ship.” Carol released the mic button and glanced over at Talos.

Talos stood up. “I’ll tell Soren and the rest to shift.” He left the cabin. 

Carol started running a protocol to check that everything was ready for the descent. The cabin was dark only illuminated by the analogue buttons and switches on the control boards. She reached over to switch on the overhead lights, but something bright shimmered in the distance caught her off guard. It was small and far enough away that it would not have alerted the security on Ursor 4. 

“What is that?” Talos returned. He squinted his eyes shielding his face with his hand. The object grew brighter as it headed towards them.

Carol didn’t shrink from the brightness. It looked almost like a solar flare except they were nowhere near a star. The wisps of feathery light grew dimmer as it changed directions moving away from the ship. It looked alive as it contracted and expanded. It was beautiful. Then it was gone. “That was strange.”

“It’s space,” said Talos. “Strange lives here.” He strapped on his seatbelt. “Everyone is strapped in and ready to go. Carol?”

“Yeah,” Carol blinked and came back to the present. She pulled a few levers preparing for the ship to descend.

When the ship landed, they were issued a permit that was good for the length of a day on the planet. So, to make use of the time, they split up into groups.

Carol, Talos, and his daughter, N’ala walked along the crowded marketplace.

“Dad! They have my favourite!” N’ala rushed over to stall that had a bountiful array of exotic fruits.

“Get as much as you want,” Carol called. “What?”

He looked at her in the skin of Keller, but his expression was unmistakably Talos. “You do so much for us.”

Carol shrugged, “I’m just finishing what Dr Lawson started.”

Talos watched his daughter pick out fruit. “And you’ve been with us for a long time. You’ve watched my daughter grow up living with us on Lawson’s ship, but we’re still not any closer to finding a home. Our people are still scattered.”

“We will find a place. The universe is huge. There’s plenty we still have explored yet,” said Carol. It was not in her nature to cave to seemingly impossible odds. And the odds of them finding a place in such a huge universe were anything but impossible. It was the journey between solar systems and galaxies that proved to be long and arduous for everyone, but Carol was hopeful. 

“Don’t you want to go home?” asked Talos. Neither of them thought this was going to be easy, but they were both tired from the never-ending journey across the universe.

Carol casually perused a table full of mystery meat cuts wrinkling her nose.“Where is home? I spent a good deal of time on Hala believing I was Kree.” She shook her head at the overly eager vendor and moved on. “And I don’t exactly fit in on Earth.”

“What about Rhodes?”

“What about him?” 

“It seemed that you and he were…” Talos struggled to find the right word since Carol was giving him nothing, “something.”

“Oh, well. You know. It wasn’t serious or anything,” she said as she examined a booth with interesting alien baubles with no obvious purpose. She accidentally touched what looked like a decorative sphere with an antique armoured finish. It came to life unrolling itself. It looked like a cross between a guinea pig and an armadillo. It’s dark blue and grey scales flared and ruffled as it squeaked and sniffed her fingers.

“I think you’re downplaying the sacrifices you made for us,” said Talos. In order to fund their expedition, both of them took odd jobs becoming mercenaries for hire. It made for some memorable adventures and interesting anecdotes to tell people, but it was not a life suited for many.

“Now Talos, don’t get emotional,” Carol tried to maintain a straight face, but it cracked into a smile, “or I may start to think you actually like me.”

Talos laughed and so did Carol. It was the kind of laughter shared by old friends. They turned their gaze back to N’ala, who had caught the eye of the stall assistant who looked to be the son of the vendor. His skin was blue and his ears curled into two antennae that twitched nervously as he talked to her. She blushed as he helped her box up the fruit.

“If you will excuse me,” Talos muttered. N’ala and her new friend were obviously finished with their transaction and were just chatting. Talos of course needed to cut that short and intimidate the young lad.

“You seem to have an admirer,” Carol said with a teasings smile when N’ala returned with her father carrying two crates of fruit.

N’ala ducked her head sheepishly, “it’s not like he’s seen my true form.” She wore her earthling skin as Skrulls were not welcomed in many places thanks to the influence of the Kree empire. They gathered a few more supplies before heading back to the ship.

Soren was already there on the landing pad. Her back was turned and she was hugging someone.

Alarmed, Talos rushed over to his wife. “What happened?” Then he saw who she was hugging. Wearing the unfamiliar skin of an alien species much like them, but her eyes were unmistakably Skrull eyes.

“It’s Fremm,” Soren said wiping her eyes. “I thought I’d never see you again.” She held her sister close.

“Mom?” N’ala said.

“N’ala, this is your aunt.” Soren held the hand of her sister afraid to let go. “You don’t remember her. We got separated when you were still a baby.”

“Oh my, you are all grown up! Come here!” exclaimed Fremm. She clasped her hands on N’ala’s face and looked into her eyes. “I thought that I would never see any of you ever again.”

“Why don’t we talk on the ship,” suggested Carol. “It would draw less attention that way.”

They boarded the ship and shed their disguises one they were in the privacy of the cabin. More tears fell and embraces were exchanged with overwhelming questions.

“Where are you headed?” asked Fremm.

“Don’t know yet,” said Talos. “Are you here alone?”

“No, there is a group of us. We’re on our way back to Torfa. We’re just stopping here to refuel.”

“Torfa? But that planet is contaminated with poisons. It’s uninhabitable,” Carol said.

Fremm was surprised.“You don’t know. Do you?”

Everyone exchanged looks of bewilderment except for Carol who was just sceptical.

“You have to see for yourself to believe it. The whole planet was on fire. The last of us got into ships before the whole planet burned. We had nowhere else to go so we stayed nearby. I think the volatile fumes in the atmosphere finally combusted and when the fire finally died down, it became a paradise. Lush green fertile lands. There are all types of edible fauna. It’s beautiful. Some of us started settling there and we’ve been trying to send messages to as many Skrulls as possible.”

Soren turned to Talos, “do you know what this means? If everything Fremm says is true.”

“We have a home,” Talos finished. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Torfa - In the Captain Marvel comics, it was a poisonous planet due to the excessive vibranium mining (I think, it’s been a while since I read it). In the movie, it’s a sort of refugee planet. I made it a mix of both here.
> 
> Fremm and N’ala were names I took from a list of Skrulls. 
> 
> Danvers and Rhodey had a thing in the comics, just acknowledging it, not actually pairing them for this story. Are you a fan of Danvers and Rhodey as an item? Yes? No? Leave a comment below! 
> 
> Wandless magic - just going off of what JK Rowling had said on Pottermore on how difficult it is. Can anyone point out to an instance where wandless magic was used in the books other than accidental magic? I reread the books two years ago and can’t remember a single instance. I feel like if you don’t have a wand, you’re like SOL.


	4. Confirmation

_ Asgard Pre-Ragnarok _

There was a myriad of spells to prove paternity at Frigga’s disposal, but she did not want to arouse any suspicion. So she set up a loom and started weaving a tapestry. She spent whatever free time she had on this project and within days it looked like it was coming together as expected.

“What are you making?”

Frigga’s fingers stilled. She turned around wearing a warm smile. “Loki, you’re home.” She rose from her seat to embrace her son.

“Mother,” Loki kissed his mother on the cheek. “I have something for you.” He presented a golden necklace set with ruby red jewels. “I picked this out for you while I was passing through Nidavellir.”

Frigga smile wavered knowing exactly how Loki procured the necklace, “thank you, it’s beautiful,” she said as she accepted it. She was going to have to make a trip to Nidavellir later. Just as Odin favoured Thor, Frigga often enabled Loki.

“Darling,” Frigga cupped Loki’s cheek noting how he always felt colder than Thor. She affectionately stroked his dark hair. 

“Yes, mother?” Loki was composed as always. He offered a genuine smile only reserved for Frigga.

“I need a lock of your hair.” She turned back to her loom. “I already have Odin and Thor’s. I’m making a tapestry,” she explained, “of our family and I think it should have something of ours.” She sat with her back toward him resuming her weaving. She took a lock of her own hair and wove it into the tapestry where her image was. 

“You didn’t call me back here just to get a lock of my hair?” He had gotten Heimdall’s message days ago.

“Do I need a reason to see my son?” She asked not looking at him. She picked up the vial containing Thor’s hair examining it in the light before removing the stopper. Her fingers deftly wove Thor’s hair into the thread securing it in place. “What were you doing in Nidavellir anyways?”

“Trading wares,” Loki lied smoothly.

“You mean stealing?” 

“I call it shrewd bargaining.” Loki sliced a lock of his hair giving it to his mother. He was ready for the conversation to move on. Nidavellir was a ruse. He didn’t want her to know where he really was.

Frigga placed it in a vial and set it aside. “You would make a great king someday. You are cunning and ruthless. Smart in ways that Thor is not.”

Loki snorted, “as if I would ever ascend to the throne knowing that Thor is father’s favourite.”

“Thor is not without his faults. He’s arrogant, prone to anger and violence, I fear if he were king we would be in endless wars.” Frigga turned in her seat to look at him. “But you have the gift of words and persuasion. You could solve a conflict without spilling a single drop of blood.”

Loki picked up a spool of thread unravelling it twisting it around his finger. “Are we not Asgardians?”

Frigga’s fingers stiffened that was what she was trying to determine.

“Do we not live to fight?” Loki replaced the thread handing it to his mother. She was working on his eyes, and he wanted her to get the colour right.

“There is a time and a place for all of that,” Frigga acknowledged threading her tapestry needle. “If you didn’t spend all your time gallivanting through the nine realms causing trouble and mayhem then maybe Odin wouldn’t rely so heavily on Thor.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, “what do you mean?”

“I simply think that you should take your role as a prince more seriously. Yes, you were born into it and as was Thor,” Frigga sighed searching for the right words, “neither of you fully appreciate it. The privilege and power, nor do either of you understand the responsibility you have to your people.”

Loki tensed and nearly broke whatever he was holding. “Perhaps I don’t want to be king. I don’t even like my subjects.” That was a partial lie. He thought it was his birthright to rule, but he detested his subjects. He thought of his brother and the Warriors Three and how every Asgardian was some iteration of that. Brash, loud, annoying, and stupid. 

Frigga looked up from her work in earnest. “For better or for worse, these are your people, and we are your family. Perhaps you felt slighted or overshadowed by Thor, but we love you both.”

“Well, it doesn’t always feel like that.” Loki left it at that. Frigga was the last person he wanted to argue with.

When the door closed, Frigga took Loki’s hair and weaved it into the tapestry. Once completed she said a simple incantation and a line of red thread ran from Odin’s name to Loki and Thor forming a triangle. Blood relation confirmed, Frigga stood up and set fire to the tapestry.

~*~

Loki left Frigga and headed straight to Odin’s vault. He transformed himself into a bottle fly as to not arouse suspicion and avoid detection. Nobody but Frigga knew he was back in Asgard because he used one of the secret passageways only he was privy to. He only had a small window of time before he was discovered to be back. He had placed an avatar in Vanaheim to distract Heimdall. He felt his power and magic grow every day, and he knew without a doubt that in time he would be able to elude Heimdall completely.

Months ago, Asgard underwent an unusually hot summer, and Loki decided to escape to a colder climate having always preferred the cold. There was one place in the nine realms that was forever frozen and that was Jotunheim. The peace if they could call it that was tenuous, but there were areas in Jotunheim that were sparsely populated enough for him to explore with little trouble. At this point, Loki was an adept shapeshifter, so he could disguise himself as whatever native species should he encounter a Frost Giant provided he avoided being eaten.

Loki had always been curious about Jotunheim. It was one of the realms his father had forbidden him to venture into saying that the inhabitants were as hostile to Asgardians as the dark elves in Svartalfheim. So naturally, Loki had to see for himself. For the first time, he felt at home in the cold, barren wasteland. He enjoyed the solitude and below freezing temperature. Asgardians were known to be extremely adaptable, but he seemed to take to the frigid climate easier than others.

He had always felt out of place in his own family. While he was skilled in the art of war like his older brother, he still preferred honing his skills in magic instead. Thor was the ideal son, the image of Odin, so what was he?

As Odin grew older and wearier, the time to select a successor approached, but Loki had a feeling that the decision had already been made, and it was not in his favour. But rather than accept this, he decided he would take matters into his own hands by exploiting the enemies of Asgard.

For months, he studied the Frost Giants in their home. They were more complex than he had initially assumed, many of them wielded magic and while Asgard’s technology was light years ahead of theirs, their evolution had moulded them to be extremely powerful and durable in cold environments. This kept them relatively safe from invasion from other realms, but unable to conquer other worlds outside of theirs. They created a weapon to change that, the Casket of Winters, which Odin took from them when they tried to invade Midgard centuries ago. 

The Casket of Winters was what Loki sought. He slipped through the locked vault effortlessly just as the guard closed the door. When he was nine years old he dared Thor to touch it, and Thor nearly lost his hand to frostbite. Odin had carried it to Asgard without any complication, but he was half Jotunn thanks to his maternal side, though most have forgotten about that since the last war. The King of Asgard had a way of burying unpleasant parts of his past.

While on Jotunheim, Loki came across and became rather enchanted by a beautiful frost giantess named Angerboda. Like him, she was a shapeshifter, but she was beautiful in both her forms. It was not love per se, but he enjoyed her company. They taught each other magic. She had no ties to Laufrey or the crown and more importantly, she did not know who he was or about his family. When he touched her in her frost giant form, nothing happened to him. He had theories as to why. Perhaps as he matured, the quarter Jotun he believed himself to be had manifested to protect him from their kind. Or as he suspected, there was more to his birth.

That was what he was in the vault to find out. He grasped the sides of the casket and felt invigorated by its power. His skin turned blue and markings appeared on his previously pale smooth skin. He released the casket panting from the shock. 

Loki needed answers, but he wasn’t going to get them from the people that had lied to him all his life. The sound of the vault door scraping open caused him to turn his head. He cloaked himself to avoid detection again and ran soundlessly up the stairs passing Odin flanked by his guards.

Odin paused for a moment as if he sensed Loki’s presence. Loki gripped the hilt of his dagger. He could do it. Kill the man he had called father all these years but instead, he transformed himself back into a fly, shedding the invisibility cloak satisfied that he was able to fool Odin.

“Something wrong, your majesty?” a guard asked. He waved his hand as a shiny green fly buzzed past him.

Odin turned to the guard, “nothing is the matter.” He entered the vault and spent an extra few hours taking inventory of all of the precious artefacts just in case.

~*~ 

Odin was a wise king, but he was no matchmaker. Nor did he think it was necessary to consult one. Afterall his firstborn son, Thor, had legions of admirers. And as heir to the throne, he imagined anyone would be eager to be in Thor’s company, except to the king’s dismay, Hermione. After observing her for a week, he concluded that the mortal preferred the company of books over anything else. The other night during dinner, he saw her tucked away at the end of a long table reading a book periodically taking small bites of food without taking her eyes off the page. She didn’t even glance up from her text when a drunken brawl broke out from the table behind her.

The Allfather spied on the girl between the spaces of the shelves. It was easy enough to find her. She was a frequent visitor to the library. When she was not tending to Frigga, she was reading. Odin had never seen her without a book in hand. If anyone could respect Hermione’s eagerness to learn all things, it would be Odin. He hung himself from Yggdrasil for days to obtain the knowledge of the world, including the nature of Ragnarok, the neverending cycle of cataclysmic doom and rebirth he and his people were cursed with. It was why he was so wise, and why he correctly came to the conclusion that some interference on his part was necessary if he wanted that grandson Volla spoke about.

Odin stepped out from behind the shelves and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Hermione stood with her back to him still reading. She had just been perusing the stacks and found an interesting book about the history of Midgard as told from the viewpoint of gods. It even predated the written word on Earth and she was absolutely fascinated. She turned the page admiring the detailed pictures depicting creatures she had never ever seen before.

“Ahem,” Odin tried again, but louder.

Hermione briefly looked up annoyed. “I’m sorry Flowa, I know you don-” she stopped herself when she turned around. She shut the book and hugged it to her chest, “your majesty,” she bowed her head. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I need you to summon Thor for me,” said Odin. He knew everything about his son as every good father should. Thor was an avid swimmer and at this hour Odin knew he had finished training and gone to his usual spot to unwind in the water. “Tell him to meet me in the throne room.” And that was the extent of Odin’s matchmaking abilities.

“Certainly, my king,” she reluctantly reshelved the book silently promising to return and excused herself from Odin’s presence. The one-eyed King unnerved her. They didn’t have an owl post, and Hermione soon found that nearly all of her duties involved relaying messages or finding certain people. The palace was huge with many corridors and passageways some even hidden, so she got lost most of the time. Not that she minded being lost in such a beautiful place. She loved exploring the palace and when time afforded her she would stroll along the halls, admiring the beautiful tapestries and murals that told the tales of Asgard. There was magic woven into the very walls and in every stone. It reminded her of Hogwarts if Hogwarts were made out of gold. 

Thor was usually pretty easy to find. If he wasn’t on the training grounds or the weapons room, or in his quarters, he was probably out of the palace at one of his favourite taverns drinking with the Warriors Three. But on this particular day, Hermione searched for hours and could not find him. Finally, she happened upon one of the guards, who was kind enough to point her in the general direction of where he last saw Thor. She travelled along the path until the paved road ended. She had not set foot outside of the city before, but the natural beauty of the trees, flowers, and lush grass drew her in. She soon found herself inside a cave. 

There was a small cliff that dropped into the hidden pool within the cove. It was secluded and like everything else in Asgard, beautiful. She heard water splashing timed to synchronized strokes and knew she was not alone. And as she neared the edge of the cliff she spotted Thor swimming naked in his glorious form. She gasped suddenly feeling like she had intruded upon him. Deciding that she would simply wait for him outside the cave, she retreated hastily, but in the process slipped on some gravel and fell. The cliff only hung about five feet above the water, so the drop was not far.

Beneath the water, Hermione opened her mouth and screamed. Her limbs suddenly felt heavier and tangled in the fabric of her dress she struggled to pull herself up to the surface.

All her hopes of Thor not catching her spying on him vanished the moment he pulled her out of the water.

“Can you ever stay out of mortal peril?” Thor asked as he carried her to shore. He set her down on the ground.

“I’m sorry, your highness, I slipped,” she averted her eyes as Thor was still naked and not one bit shy about it.

“And you do not know how to swim?” He slowly pulled on his trousers watching her amused that she won’t look at him. 

“No, I never learned. The rivers and lakes around cities were often polluted and too dirty to swim in.” That was one reason. The other was that Swimming was largely discouraged as one had to do it without clothing or risk drowning in the layers of fabric they wore. Something she learned in her short time in Asgard was that they had no concept of sin. Asgardians had no qualms about their bodies, nakedness, sexuality, fornication, but the church took issue with those things and being a muggleborn she lived in that world and it was hard to shake that shame. 

“Perhaps you should learn,” Thor suggested. He grabbed his discarded tunic from the ground and pulled it over his head. He turned his head in her direction. She still wasn’t looking at him. He grinned, “have you never gazed upon the male form before?”

Hermione blushed. Thor’s bluntness was rather disarming. “Um..no, sir. I have not.” That was not entirely true. She just hadn’t ever seen anyone so perfect.

“What are you doing here anyway?” 

Hermione stood up on her shaky legs. She pushed a clump of wet unruly hair out of her face trying to make herself more presentable in her state, “the King asked me to find you. He requested a meeting,” she said with her back toward him. Her modest dress had been rendered immodest by the water, and she wanted to hide. At least it was relatively warm outside otherwise she would be shivering from the cold instead of trembling from her near drowning in front of the prince of Asgard. It brought back very unpleasant memories from her trial.

“Oh?” Thor was momentarily distracted by the transparency of her soaked dress, which showed him nearly everything, and he was pleased with what he saw. He thought briefly of how he should seduce her into his bed. She was technically his after all, but she seemed so guarded around him. So he wanted to test how strong those walls were.

He approached her from behind, and Hermione jumped. She nearly cursed out loud thinking that someone so large should not be able to sneak up on another person.

Thor chuckled. “Tell me, are all mortals this skittish?” He picked up a strand of her hair playing with it between his fingers.

She flinched at the sound of his voice so close to her ear. Hermione hated him at that moment. She knew he was playing with her using their power dynamic to his advantage.

“You simply startled me. That is all,” Hermione answered mechanically not wanting to play his game.

He walked around to her front, and she tried not to shirk from his gaze. “I startled you?” Thor raised an eyebrow. “Even though you were the one spying on me.”

Hermione’s assumption that Thor was a dumb brute went out the window just then. “I..I wasn’t,” she protested. She crossed her arms over her chest to shield herself from Thor’s unrelenting stare. He was far too close to her. “The King merely asked me to find you,” she reiterated. “He’s waiting for you in the throne room.” At least that was where Odin was hours ago. She just wanted to leave, but decorum required her to be dismissed.

He stepped closer to her further invading her precious personal space. “Are you afraid of me?” Thor asked. It was a legitimate question. Most feared him, his subjects and enemies especially. 

Hermione fought the urge to back away and instead looked up at him. Her chin held high, “no, should I be?” She hoped she sounded braver than she felt.

Thor’s mouth twitched. “As long as you don’t do anything that displeases me,” he paused a smile forming on his lips. “I haven’t even claimed my reward for saving you yet.” 

Hermione unconsciously rubbed her right wrist where the mark was. “Reward?” She feigned confusion. “But I’m already in your family’s service.”

His much larger hand closed around her wrist bringing it up to her view, his thumb brushing the mark. 

Hermione, annoyed at how casually he touched her, carefully extracted her hand, “what is it that you want from me?” She held her breath.

Thor shrugged, “I don’t know yet.” Because the last time Thor had a boon like this was from a wood nymph he rescued from a pack of wolves. But unlike Frigga, Thor did not perform a spell to extract the favour but simply held the wood nymph by the back of her neck until she relented. Thor could have asked for a number of things, but the nymph offered him a bottle of fairy wine, and he took it releasing the nymph. After downing it all in one go he blacked out and only came to several days later completely naked in his mother’s garden having no knowledge as to what occurred following the nymph’s release. To this day he wasn’t sure if that nymph wasn’t actually just Loki playing a trick on him. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as Thor took his leave. She could not stand any more of his questions and teasing. If she didn’t know better she would have thought he was flirting with her.

Thor looked over his shoulder, “come to my chambers tonight after dinner.”

_ Earth Present Day  _

Hermione resurfaced from the water inhaling the crisp cool air steam evaporating from her head and bare skin. One of the perks of being a prefect she could get used to, the bathroom. Harry did not exaggerate when he said that he could swim laps if he wanted to. 

Hermione loved baths and this prefect’s bathroom was made for her. The sunken bathtub was the size of a swimming pool. The bathroom itself was large enough so that the steam dissipated instead of getting trapped in a small space, creating a level of humidity that was a nightmare for Hermione’s hair. She sighed and rested her head on top of her arms at the edge of the tub. The tile was cool to the touch, which was a welcome contrast to the hot water and the company.

Speaking of company, Cormac had not taken the hint to leave. He approached her from behind kissing down her neck arms around her waist. He nudged her insistently making his desire known.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Teenage boys,” she muttered.

“Hmmm?”

“Nothing,” Hermione said tonelessly. She shifted away from him the water gently sloshing and spilling along the edge of the pool. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Hermione kept her gaze forward.  _ You’re just not who I want, _ she thought but did not voice out loud.

But even Cormac McLaggen wasn’t that thick. He backed off and ran his hand through his wet curls matted from the water. “You’re the one who invited me here, Granger.”

Hermione turned around resting her arms on the side of the pool, “and we shagged, what else do you want?” 

Cormac laughed, it was sharp, short, and a little deprecating. “You know I fancied you. I really did. But clearly, you’re just using me to make Weasley jealous.”

His confession surprised her. Hermione honestly didn’t think the guy had much depth. She opened her mouth to protest, “no, I wasn’t.” She wasn’t entirely convinced and neither was Cormac.

Cormac got out of the tub grabbing a towel to dry himself. “I was so excited when you asked me to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.”

Hermione watched as he gathered his things with a slight pang of guilt. At seventeen, he was over six feet tall and still growing. Broad framed, well-muscled, and blonde was not typically what Hermione was attracted to. She preferred ginger, freckled, and lanky, but as far as mistakes go, she could have done a lot worse. 

Pants on, Cormac pulled his legs through his trousers buckling his belt, “I thought, here’s the girl of my dreams asking me out. I’m one lucky bloke.” He shook his head smiling ruefully.

Hermione cringed at the phrasing wondering if they were breaking up or something. They never talked about this. What they were doing. This current conversation was the longest they’ve ever had that didn’t involve Cormac’s bragging about his greatest quidditch saves. They were only seventeen. It seemed silly to be hurt by such things, but then again she lost count of the nights she cried herself to sleep over Ron. But she had fancied Ron for years, her tears were justified. She was convinced of that.

Cormac continued with his speech as he finished dressing.“You only want to snog whenever you see Weasley and Brown doing it.” He slipped on his white oxford shirt buttoning it up leaving the last two undone and forgoing his tie. “At first I went along with it because I liked snogging you. I liked shagging you even more. But you know what no guy likes? Mind games. I can’t bloody read your mind.” 

“You’re right,” Hermione said. It was the closest to an apology he was getting. “I was using you.”

Cormac clenched his jaw, robe and wand in hand. He looked more disappointed than angry. “See you around, Granger.” 

When the door clicked closed Hermione took a deep breath and submerged herself back underneath the warm water not ready to go back to the common room just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flowa - librarian of Asgard’s Library in the Avengers comics. 
> 
> Loki as a fly comes from mythology where he transformed himself to distract the dwarves creating Mjolnir. I chose the bottle fly because those are green, which I assume is Loki’s favourite colour or at least he looks super fine in it so we’ll just go with that;)
> 
> Canon Divergence - if Loki were actually Odin’s biological son through Farbauti, he would be 75% Jotunn versus Thor who would be 25%.


	5. Prelude

_ Asgard Pre-Ragnarok _

Night had fallen and the halls were dimly lit with torchlight giving the golden palace a soft glow. It was actually Hermione’s favourite time of day, but she walked with the haste and determination of a prisoner facing their execution. A feeling she was familiar with. It wasn’t like she could refuse the prince. 

She took a deep breath as she approached Thor’s quarters. She had never been to this part of the palace before. It seemed bigger and grander somehow. The guards flanking the entrance nodded and opened the doors for her like they were expecting her. She hesitated before quietly slipping inside the antechamber. Thor was nowhere to be found, so she continued through the atrium. His suite of rooms in the palace was larger than the entire house she grew up in on Earth. She heard the sound of running water and stopped.

Thor stepped out of the bathing room, shirtless, rubbing a towel through his wet hair. Hermione let go of the breath she was holding when she saw that he at least wore trousers.

“There you are. I was beginning to worry,” Thor remarked. He casually tossed the towel aside as he walked past her. He smiled when he noticed her entire body tensing. He kept going and Hermione realized that she was meant to follow him. Her eyes wandered as she walked through Thor’s private quarters. He had his own dining room enough to seat a family of twelve, a sitting room with a large fireplace that she could step into comfortably. Finally, there was the bedroom.

Hermione had wondered what kind of a bed a god would sleep on. She had envisioned Thor sleeping on a bed of furs and skins from all the beasts he had slain on top of a frame made of the bones of his enemies, but it was quite normal fitted with sheets and pillows except for the size. The enormous mattress sat on a heavy wooden frame with many decorative carvings that extend to the ceiling. It had to accommodate his large size plus the company he kept.

Hermione stood at the centre of the room picking at her dress nervously anticipating Thor’s order. All the while Thor was watching her with amusement. 

“Come here,” Thor called from the other side of the room.

Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw Thor standing by a desk holding several stacks of paper. He plopped them down and pulled out his chair for her.

Surprised Hermione didn’t question him as she took her seat. She felt like a child sitting in the enormous chair her feet barely touching the ground. She looked forward but could feel him staring. 

Thor knelt down next to her so that he was eye level. His elbow propped up on the armrest, he gripped her chin and tilted it towards him so she looked at him. It both amused and vexed him that she avoided him like this. “You are so ...tense,” he observed. “Have you never been with a man?”

Hermione blinked, her brain formulating an answer. There was that one time with Cormac McLaggen in a dark broom closet after they locked lips underneath an innocuously placed mistletoe. It was during Slughorn’s annual Yuletide banquet. Neither one of them bothered to disrobe completely, and she erased his memory but regrettably could not obliviate herself without risking brain damage. Then there was Viktor Krum who afterwards tragically died during the Triwizard tournament along with the other two champions when the dragon guarding the cup set the entire maze on fire. Hermione cleared her throat and sat a little taller in the chair. “I’ve never been with a god,” she said innocently. 

Thor chuckled, dropping his hand, it lightly grazed her collarbone when he reached for her hair with a gentleness that surprised Hermione. Thor liked her hair. He toyed with it in between his fingers tucking it behind her ear “You need not worry about that,” Thor grinned, “for now anyway.” 

“Pardon?” Hermione almost choked. 

Thor released her hair and stood up. He walked around the chair to the other side of the desk where the stack of papers laid. “I heard what that toad woman said during your sentencing. You do seem like the bookish type. Kind of like my brother, who is nowhere to be found right now. My father likes for me to take over his duties,” Thor explained setting the stack in front of her, “says it will make me a better king.” Thor excelled in the battlefield. He was a great general, but kings also ruled in times of peace. There were matters that completely bored Thor such as levying taxes, balancing budgets, passing new laws, drafting peace treaties, arbitrating civil conflicts. Thor had no interest in any of those things.

Hermione was relieved. This she could do. She scanned over the documents, most of them were arbitrations between feuding parties. “So you want me to make decisions for you?” Hermione tilted her head up to look up at him.

“Exactly,” Thor smiled. They had an agreement. “I need all of this completed by morning. You will stay here until you are done,” he said as he pulled on a clean shirt from his wardrobe. “Everything I have is at your disposal. Just complete the task,” was the last thing he said as the door closed behind him.

~*~

Hermione finished revising the treaty between the dark and light elves hoping her stipulations and concessions will end the century-long war. She crossed out the clause about a forced marriage between Malekith and Queen Aelsa Featherwine believing it to be both disgusting and wholly unnecessary. Satisfied with her work she neatly ordered each document plus her notes by category before returning the books to their rightful places on the shelves of Thor’s enviable private library. There was a loud bang that startled her enough that she dropped the books. She quickly picked them up assuming that it was just Thor returning from whatever engagement he had then she heard the unmistakable sound of feminine laughter.

They burst into the room half-naked without acknowledging Hermione. She ducked underneath the desk realizing that Thor must have forgotten that she was still here in his obviously inebriated state. As she peeked around the desk, sure enough, Thor was too busy suckling and groping this stunning woman to notice her.

“Thor,” the mystery woman giggled breathlessly.

Thor responded in grunts burying his face in her neck and chest. 

Soon they were both out of their clothes and Thor was mounting her on his bed. 

Hermione never wished for her wand more than ever as she listened to the two other occupants in the room copulate with the gusto of hippogriffs in heat. Then it happened, she apparated without her wand for the first time.

Loki looked up from his book when he heard a thump in the corner of his room where his wardrobe was. In one swift motion, his book snapped closed as he strolled soundlessly to the source of the disturbance. He opened the door and was pleasantly surprised by what he found. Not that it showed on his regal face. It wasn’t every day that a pretty maiden appeared in his closet. Well, not lately anyway. 

“Who are you? And how did you get in here? I have explicitly ordered all servants are to remain outside unless summoned.” He looked down at Hermione both figuratively and literally.

Hermione took a quick scan of her body and was surprised she didn’t splinch herself. When she looked up, she realized that she was in trouble. Dark hair, handsome aristocratic features, expensive robes, Hermione instantly identified Loki. His face along with Thor’s were on hundreds of paintings throughout the palace. “Your highness,” she quickly got up and bowed her head, “my name is Hermione.”

“Why are you hiding in my wardrobe?” His long fingers tapped against the lacquered wood, patience wearing thin. He didn’t take kindly to those who breached his secured space.

“I was…” Hermione frowned. She was at a loss as to how to explain her situation. “It was an accident.” She decided to tell the truth not trusting herself to lie. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to transport myself here. I am simply lost. I’ll see myself out.”

Loki blocked her path his hand still gripping the door leaving her standing awkwardly in his wardrobe. “I haven’t seen you before.” He had gleaned that his mother had gained a new handmaiden while he was away judging by her attire. But what he didn’t understand was why she was clearly mortal with her shorter stature and frail appearance. His eyes narrowed at her. “What do you mean you accidentally transported yourself here? Did my mother send you?”

It occurred to Hermione that perhaps Asgardian magic users didn’t use apparition as a mode of transportation. She was not about to give away her secret.

“Well?” Loki’s looked at her expectantly.

“Loki!” Frigga called from the atrium. The only person Loki allowed in his living quarters freely as in he could not stop her from entering even if he wanted to. 

Loki sighed and looked over his shoulder in the direction of his mother’s voice, “stay here,” he ordered, but when he turned around she was already gone. Mildly surprised, he shut the wardrobe and met his mother in his sitting room.

“Mother,” Loki greeted cordially if not a little cold still jilted from the conversation earlier. He kissed Frigga on the cheek.

“May I sit? There is something I need to talk to you about,” she smiled graciously as if nothing were amiss. Like she didn’t just confirm a lie to be ironically true. 

“Of course,” he gestured to the settee. No one was supposed to know he was home except for Frigga. He hoped he wouldn’t have to entertain any other guests preferring to be alone so he could piece together something he had been trying to figure out his entire life. 

“I believe I may have been too harsh earlier,” Frigga began, “I just want what is best for you.” She took Loki’s hands into hers. Her face earnest and open to whatever verbal retaliation Loki had in store for her. Every family quarrelled. Thor would argue with her and Odin until the problem was resolved or he accepted his punishment. Loki was a little more passive-aggressive choosing to leave the conversation and wait for an apology because he was inevitably right anyways.

“Which is why you’re here. You’re not really apologizing, mother. There’s something else.”

“Indeed there is,” Frigga admitted. “I have a new handmaiden.”

Loki already knew this but did not convey it.

“She is a witch from Midgard, a human. She is in need of training.” Frigga did not believe in coincidences. That she should learn of Loki’s true parentage after Volla’s passing was a sign. She had debated on whether to act on it and in the end, she chose set Loki on the same path as Thor and let fate take care of the rest.

“What is she? Your pet?” Loki got up and poured himself a drink. So the girl was a witch, Loki thought. That had explained how she had ended up in his bedroom. “Since when did we allow mortals in Asgard? Or rather since when did father allow it?”

Frigga sighed, “she’s incredibly bright and could perhaps be an asset for us. Bad things are happening to her kind on Midgard,” she answered diplomatically. Someone taught Loki how to lie after all. “I could not stand by idly and watch her die.”

Loki smirked, raising his glass to her, “that’s very noble of you, mother.”

“She does not have our strength, but I don’t want her to be vulnerable. I would like for you to teach her defensive magic,” the way she said it left little to be questioned.

Loki sat down and handed Frigga a glass full of liquor because one does not drink alone of course. He considered his mother’s proposal for a moment. He would love a new toy to torment, but it also seemed like a chore. “This seems like it would be a waste of time. Their lives are so short. What can I possibly teach her that she could master in less than a century?”

“I think you underestimate Midgardian witches, my son,” Frigga wished she had a daughter sometimes. Both of her sons were so unflinchingly arrogant. They took after their father in that sense. “She is your subject now too and you would be doing something good,” Frigga encouraged.

“That’s boring.”

‘Do it for me,” Frigga reached over placing her hand on Loki’s forearm, “please?”

Loki sighed and finished his drink, “you are the queen.”

“And your mother,” Frigga reminded him.

_ Earth Present Day _

It was late and a school night. Nearly everyone had cleared out of the common room except for Hermione and Harry. Gathered by the dying embers of the fireplace, Hermione was getting a headstart on some assignments not due for weeks, while Harry was reading the tattered contents of  _ Advanced Potion Making _ as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

Hermione glanced up from her Ancient Runes translation and sighed when she saw Harry had nodded off. His face planted on the pages snoring softly. She was concerned about Harry. Dumbledore put a lot of pressure on him. Their meetings became longer and more frequent. When Harry wasn’t with Dumbledore or running drills at the quidditch pitch as captain, he was spying on Malfoy, still convinced he was a Death Eater.

Hermione shut her textbook and got up and walked over to where Harry was sleeping face down on the squashy red couch. She grabbed a blanket and draped it over him. Carefully lifting his head, Hermione slid the textbook from underneath him and closed it. But curiosity got the best of her. Nobody loved books like Hermione but she didn’t trust whoever this Half-blood Prince was and Harry seemed obsessed even Ginny had expressed her concerns.

She flipped open to a page. The text was scrawled over with messy barely legible handwriting. It was no wonder Harry spent so much time reading deciphering the mess.

“What are you doing?”

Hermione looked up to see Harry sitting on the couch blanket tossed aside on the floor. “Give it back.” He reached out his hand.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, “I was just looking.” She closed the book and was about to hand it back to him, but then thought better of it. “I think we should turn this in.”

Harry sighed, “not this again. That book has only helped me. You were always on me and Ron about applying ourselves to our studies.”

“Not by cheating,” Hermione said harshly. 

“It’s not cheating. It’s no different than you tutoring me, Hermione.” Harry scratched the back of his neck.

“If you can’t see that this book gives you a significant advantage in our potion practicals,” Hermione began, “it’s against the rules.”

“No, it’s not, Hermione. I don’t use this during tests,” Harry yawned. “Since when have you been so rule abiding anyways?”

Hermione scoffed, “I’ve always followed the rules.”

“When it suits you,” said Harry under his breath.

“What?”

“I said you follow the rules only when it suits you,” said Harry tiredly. “You break them all the other times.”

“Only to save you and Ron,” Hermione said shrewdly.

“Or when you know you can get away with it. I think punching Malfoy in the face on school grounds counts as assault,” Harry ribbed.

“Are you really defending Malfoy?” Hermione crossed her arms.“You think he’s a Death Eater-”

“He is!” Harry insisted.“Besides he deserved it. He was trying to kill Buckbeak! And he almost succeeded too.” 

“I just don’t buy it.” Hermione didn’t share Harry’s suspicions. “Malfoy is too much of a coward to be more than a schoolyard bully. He can taunt with his words, but he has no more bite than one of those tiny dogs my aunt carries around like an infant.” Malfoy was everything Hermione hated, a spoiled, racist, entitled daddy’s boy. “I swear if I hear him say, ‘my father will hear about this’ one more time,” she said in an affected voice, “I will sodomize that git with his own broomstick.” Beneath her bookworm exterior was a mean vindictive streak.

Harry grimaced at the violent imagery. “See, there’s a ruthlessness about you Hermione, that frankly scares me. I mean I’m glad we’re friends and all-cause I certainly don’t want to be your enemy. Did Marietta Edgecombe ever get her...” Harry waved his hand over his face.

“I don’t know. I think she’s homeschooled now,” said Hermione dismissively.

Harry was mildly disturbed that his friend showed no remorse for inflicting an irreversible jinx on a fellow student, but he wondered if it was because no one ever challenged her on it. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to at the moment. He just wanted his book back. “Come on, give me back the book,” Harry got up.

“No,” Hermione protested. She backed away from him. “I’m turning this into Dumbledore.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped too exhausted to engage. “Seriously, Hermione. I need this. I have to stay on Slughorn’s good side, otherwise, I can’t get that memory. He thinks I’m a genius at potions.”

“Because you’re cheating,” Hermione repeated. “Also, do you not remember what happened the last time you found a random book lying around?”

“It’s not…” Harry sighed. He was tired. It was late. “You were the one who told me I should get this memory thing sorted now rather than later. This book is going to help me do that. It’s a tool. It’s a means to an end. I thought if anyone would understand that it would be you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hermione eyed him critically.

Despite his exhaustion, Harry continued his rant fueled by angst and frustration more than anything else. “This isn’t even about the stupid rules. You just can’t stand not being the best at something.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione was angry now. “I work hard. I study a lot. I care about my marks.” She held up the book shaking it in anger. “This would be if I took a sip of Felix Felicitis before mounting a broom and catching the snitch.”

“Or casting a confundus charm on Cormac McLaggen,” Harry pointed out.

“You should have heard the things he was saying about Ron and Ginny,” Hermione stammered. She wondered if they were fighting because Ron wasn’t here to diffuse the tension or argue with her.

“People say things,” Harry said exasperatedly. “Doesn’t mean you should attack them.”

“I didn’t attack anyone!” Hermione hissed. “Malfoy calls me a mudblood and no one bats an eye.” She couldn’t remember any of the teachers doling out any sort of disciplinary action. At least not enough to get Malfoy to stop calling her that. It certainly paid to be the son of one of the school’s governors.

Harry shook his head adamantly. “That’s not true. Second-year, Ron defended you and ended up eating slugs, remember? And you’re still not speaking to him.”

“Rita Skeeter writes lies about us in the Daily Prophet,” Hermione ranted ignoring Harry. “Sometimes words are more damaging than a hex.”

“Is that why you trapped her in a jar?” Harry asked in disbelief trying to make sense of his best friend’s dubious morality and self-served justice. 

“I had to,” explained Hermione. “Otherwise she would have kept writing that rubbish about us. In the Muggle world, we have libel laws, but everything is so backwards here. It’s like we’re frozen in the dark ages.” She threw up her hands gesturing to their surroundings. “I mean we live and go to school in a castle for Merlin’s sake!” 

“You really don’t see anything wrong with the things you’ve done? Disfiguring Marietta Edgecombe? Blackmailing Rita Skeeter? Abandoning Umbridge to bloody centaurs!? You know what they do to women?”

At the mention of Umbridge, Hermione bristled. “I saved you. Why are you acting like they’re the victims? They deserved everything that happened to them. Edgecombe snitched on us. She deserved that mark. It’s a warning to anyone that associates with her. Skeeter is a liar and should be punished, and don’t even get me started on Umbridge.” Hermione’s angry whispers were loud enough to wake everyone.

Harry cast a quick muffliato. “I didn’t ask you to! I didn’t bloody ask you to kidnap Rita Skeeter in a jar and then blackmail her either! You didn’t even warn anyone there was a jinx on the parchment they signed for the DA. What if that had been Luna, Ginny, or Neville?”

“Luna, Ginny, and Neville would not have betrayed us,” Hermione was so self-assured. She was not going to back down and apologize for her actions. 

“Hermione, Umbridge was using veritaserum and blood quills. One of us would have broken eventually.” He couldn’t even believe the next words out of his mouth. “I wish you would think about these things before you administer your perverse sense of justice.”

“You might view my actions as hypocritical. But I did it to keep you safe. Your best spell is expelliarmus. I know you don’t want to dirty your hands being the  _ Chosen One  _ and all. But last time I checked, we are at war. We don’t win wars by disarming your enemies.” She threw the book at Harry and he caught it against his chest.

They didn’t speak for weeks.

_ Torfa Present Day _

Carol still could not believe her eyes. This toxic planet she had first visited years ago on that ill-fated mission for the Kree was unrecognizable to her. But the coordinates did not lie, she stood on a lush green and blue planet that was reborn from flames according to multiple witnesses. It was like earth before it was mankind’s ever-encroaching civilization touched it.

“No other species had settled here yet since the cleansing fire,” said Fremm. “The Kree empire’s reach had been receding in the last decade. We should be safe here.” She set out a few bowls of food to be shared. They were having dinner outside tonight.

Carol took her seat next to N’ala and Talos. She took the pitcher that already laid in the centre of the table and started pouring drinks for everyone.

“Auntie Carol, you’ll stay for a while, right?” N’ala asked as she finished setting the table. Everyone else took their seats and were eager to tuck into the delicious meal Fremm and Soren had prepared for them.

“N’ala, she has to get back to Earth,” Soren said.

“Though you are welcome to stay as long as you like,” Talos added. “This could be your home too.” It was clear that they were staying on Torfa.

“I’ll stay a little longer,” Carol promised. She was met with smiles. “This looks delicious.” She took in the spread of fresh foods. “We normally eat freeze-dried rations and vitamin and mineral supplements.”

“There is plenty, so eat your fill!” Fremm passed Carol a colourful bowl of salad.

She scanned the food with the device on her wrist for poisons and heavy metal contamination. The scan came up clean. She caught Fremm’s eye and said, “sorry. I just had to make sure.”

“No need to apologize. We were just as stunned as you were,” said Fremm. “We are still studying this planet to make sure it is as viable as it looks on the outside. This was once a poisonous planet.”

“Can you tell me more about this fire? How did it start?” Carol stuck a fork into the salad. Her eyes widened at how delicious the vegetables were. She finished chewing before expressing, “this is really delicious.”

“We don’t know how it started yet. But there is a team working on it. It wasn’t a normal fire that’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“It started, but it didn’t actually stop. Fires eventually go out once it burns through everything, but it actually continued to burn until there was nothing left. It never went out.”

“How is that possible? Is the fire still burning here?”

“No,” Fremm paused. “It vacated the planet.”

“Wait, you’re telling me this fire didn’t extinguish, but got up and left?”    
  
“Yes, we all saw it. It emerged from the planet like a solar flare and then it flew into space. When it vanished from sight, we thought the fire extinguished itself. We have the footage from our ships.”   
  


“Can I see it?” Carol dropped her fork. Her food laid forgotten on her plate.

Talos sighed, “let’s do this later. Right now we should enjoy this delicious meal in good company,” he said firmly to Carol.

“Sorry,” Carol apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt dinner. I’m just curious. Do you know where the fire started?”

“I do, we can show you it later.” That answer seemed to satisfy Carol enough though she remained silent through the rest of dinner. Her mind clearly preoccupied with something else.

~*~

According to Fremm, the fire started in the mountains, and it was too late for the rest of the Skrulls to make the long climb, so Carol flew up there by herself. Once in the air, she saw a clearing. It looked like a nest, an immolated nest. She landed in the centre and looked around some more. Upon closer inspection, the nest was a gathering of fallen tree trunks. 

Whatever creature made it was very strong. Most of the trees had been burned down to cinders. Black ash covered the ground. It was a stark contrast to the lush green foliage that surrounded it. Carol uncovered something on the ground that caught her eye. Her boot brushed against something bright red. She bent down and brushed away the ash and dirt with her hands revealing a feather that was about the length of her leg. It didn’t take a genius to figure out a giant bird-like creature used to live on top of this mountain. But where was it now?

Carol replayed the video on her wrist console for the third time. She watched as the fire burned into space, which should have been impossible. Space was a cold vacuum with no oxygen. The fire had to be sentient. She was sure of it. 

She stayed for a few more weeks making sure Talos and the others were settled before they parted ways. It was difficult leaving them, and she felt as empty as her ship when she breached the atmosphere of Torfa alone. Out in space, she lingered not sure where to go, so she followed the path of the mysterious fire entity.

  
  
  
  


  
  
  



	6. The Trickster

Hermione apparated back to her modest quarters breathing heavily. That was a close call for her. The last thing she wanted was the queen to think she was an opportunistic whore. No matter how accepting they seemed to be of matters of sex, sleeping with royalty tended to mark a girl as a social ladder climbing fortune seeker. At least on earth, they did. Though as double standards go, it did not apply to men. She shuddered when she recalled what Thor was doing to that woman. Although it was not entirely out of disgust if she were honest with herself.

She was determined to make the best of her new life here on Asgard, but if things were to turn sideways, which had been happening a lot lately, she needed an out. More importantly, she wanted to know how to break the bond. She pulled up her sleeve on her right arm and frowned when she saw the mark. Obviously, her doing Thor’s work didn’t fulfil her obligation. Perhaps the task required magic or it needed to be equal to what Thor did. She sighed and flopped onto her bed asking herself how could she possibly save the life of a being that was nearly invulnerable?

She continued to stare at the mark willing it to go away. They had similar magic on earth. It was old magic that was barely understood. An innate bond may form between two people when a life was spared even without the whisper of a spell. It was rare, but somehow she knew this mark on her arm was entirely different. This was intentional. She realized that it must have been Frigga that cast the spell, but she cannot fathom why. She had broached the subject one morning, and Frigga vaguely answered before moving on to their daily matters. Hermione respected the queen but did not entirely trust her. The feeling appeared to be mutual since the queen was not forthcoming with the answer. She remembered Odin’s words.

Heading into the small adjacent lavatory, she readied herself for bed. Among the modern magical marvels of Asgard was a highly advanced system of plumbing, not even seen on muggle earth. Even without her wand, she could have water at her fingertips just by turning on the tap. Another aspect she learned in her short time here, while magic was ubiquitous in Asgard, not every Asgardian practised it. As far as she knew, Frigga was a magic user perhaps the most skilled, so was Odin, Heimdall, and of course Loki.

Still, she could not bring herself to use the modest bathtub instead of filling a basin of water to wash with. The sensation of being submerged in water still frightened her. Of all the torture Umbridge put of her through, dunking was the most terrifying. Hermione finished cleaning herself and dressed for bed. When she looked out the window, she gleaned that she only had a few precious hours until she needed to be awake and tending to Frigga. So she closed her eyes and drifted off to a restless sleep full of nightmares of drowning.

~*~

Odin was sipping his morning ale (because that is a thing in Asgard) in his chambers enjoying breakfast with Frigga when one of the servants deliver a signed packet of documents. He scanned the contents with his working eye before tossing the papers scattering them everywhere. “This isn’t Thor’s work!”

“Hmm…” Frigga gingerly finished a piece of fruit before summoning all the papers so they lay next to her plate in a neat pile.

“It’s too thoughtful and meticulous,” said Odin. “I need to speak to him. He needs to know being king is more than winning wars.”

Frigga perused a few lines before saying, “it is not Loki’s either. It’s all too theoretical. Every conclusion and inference was drawn from the words of books not actual encounters with the dwarves, trolls, and elves or visitations to the other realms.” She looked up at her husband, “except for the signature, it’s written in neither Loki or Thor’s handwriting, so it must be Hermione’s. She has the makings of a good queen.”

Odin baulked, “queen? No mortal can be Queen of Asgard.” He went back to eating his breakfast, a leg of a beast larger than the size of his head.

“And why is that?” Frigga asked sharply shifting the papers aside. “If it is her mortality, that can be dealt with. You are the Allfather after all. Your magic could make her one of us.”

“And if mortals are privy to that information they would be lining up on the Bifrost.”

“My love, since when are you afraid of mortals? You have always deemed them to be weaker and inferior to us,” Frigga said using her husband’s logic.

“But they’re so numerous. It’s their numbers I’m afraid of. They breed like rabbits,” Odin took another swig of his ale. That was true, they could take the entire Asgard population and settle it on Midgard and still be vastly outnumbered.

“Speaking of breeding, do you expect that we just let our son impregnate her without even offering marriage?” she gave him a stern look to show her disapproval of the very idea.

“Why not?” Odin was completely serious. “We take the boy, and we return her back to Midgard where she belongs.” He started reading the daily reports the servant also dropped off as if the conversation had concluded.

Frigga bristled at Odin’s callousness, but she needed to keep her cool. Her husband rarely conceded in an outright argument. “Do you believe that is the best way? The child raised as a bastard? Would he fight for us in Ragnarok if he does not see us as his family?”

“Frigga, our people will never accept this...mortal girl to be their queen,” his tone borderlined on patronizing.

Frigga rarely raised her voice unless her husband or sons were being extra dense. As much as she wanted to she did not scream or shout. “Not unless they hear the prophecy. I will train her as will Loki. I will make sure that she becomes one of the most accomplished magic users in all of the nine realms. Her power will rival even Amora and her sister Lorelai.”

“Power corrupts,” Odin warned, but he was intrigued. “Then what? We tell our people she is our saviour?”

“We leak facets of the prophecy through whispers in the palace. It gets perpetuated through gossip among the servants and soon everyone will embrace her,” Frigga finished presenting her scheme with a delicate sip of her morning tea.

Odin bought it, “fine. There is still the issue of Loki’s offspring. They must be dealt with.”

“You mean our grandchildren?” Frigga corrected sharply.

“Familial matters, blood or not are complicated,” said Odin. “That applies to us and mortals. The very person that seeks to supplant the throne could be of blood relation. Locking Hela away was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do,” Odin lowered his voice. “To protect Asgard.”

Frigga stood up from her seat. Her appetite was gone. She looked out the window, basking in the warmth of the morning light. “Send the serpent far away where it cannot be found. Where it can grow uninhibited. As for the wolf, do not kill him. Bring him here,” she implored Odin. “Sequester him if you see fit, but I’ll not have you murdering our grandchildren,” Frigga exited with a flourish of her skirts.

_ ~*~ _

Frigga assigned Hermione on potion duty for the week, and she could not be happier to work in solitude. The queen had a vast garden of herbs and medicinal plants at her disposal. Hermione tended to the garden, gathered the ingredients, and brewed elixirs and tonics to refill the palace stores. She would even describe potion making as therapeutic now that Snape wasn’t constantly sneering at her.

Humming to herself, Hermione crushed some dill weed she had just plucked from the garden before dropping them into the cauldron. It turned the thin liquid from a pewter colour to a deep blue. Pleased with the results as it matched the description in the text, she smiled. It was a welcomed change for her to be brewing in a beautiful open greenhouse instead of the dungeons where there was no ventilation. 

Putting the finishing touches on the last batch of potion, she double-checked the colour and consistency before carefully ladling liquid into their designated vials. She secured the stopper on each bottle before transferring them all to a tray. This batch was to be delivered to the infirmary. 

Aside from the run-in with the two princes, Hermione enjoyed her new life in Asgard so far. She missed her parents of course. She also missed her wand and having full access to her magic, but she accepted that would come in time. Frigga had been most patient and accommodating teaching her magic. But overall, she was content. Living in Asgard was a privilege, but serving the royal family was a challenge. Hermione liked and respected Frigga, the others not so much. Odin mostly ignored her. Much to her relief, so did Thor. Loki was the wildcard. She expected some sort of punishment for appearing in his quarters uninvited. 

Across the courtyard, Loki cut through a small orchard in search of Hermione. She never explained how she appeared in his wardrobe the other night and that irked the prince. When Frigga revealed that Hermione was a witch, he was taken aback. He had never encountered a Midgardian magic-user before. His mother spoke highly of her. It seemed that Hermione had won Frigga over. Then again, she had always desired a daughter. Loki already had to live in Thor’s shadow. Magic was something he excelled at and had no desire to share the small spotlight he had.

Despite how ubiquitous magic was in Asgard, there were only a few notable practitioners. At the forefront was Loki of course. Odin had no equal as he was the Allfather. Heimdall’s magic was more esoteric and particular. Frigga taught Loki everything she knew, and his knowledge had expanded since then. Volla was dead. There were Lorelei and Amora, sisters and proteges of Karnilla. The latter three were exiled from Asgard for various reasons related to conspiracy against the crown and treason.

So when he saw a mortal perform a feat of magic he had not seen before, he was a little curious as to what else she could do. Loki was rational, cold, and calculating. So logically, he had nothing to fear from a mortal. No, he did not see her as a threat. It was more that he thought her kind was undeserving of such a gift. Magic required mastery that was beyond wielding a sword or an axe. It was an art that made the intangible suddenly tangible, the impossible into reality and required the bending of the physics governing their universe. Her short lifespan prevented her from attaining any meaningful mastery in his eyes. While her magic could never surpass his, the same insecurity that ate at him and his relationship with his brother reared its ugly head ready to consume the unsuspecting witch.

He plucked a ripe apple from a tree. Tossing it into the air a few times before taking a bite, he then spied someone he had been expecting, and his smile turned almost feral. He pocketed the apple and knelt down to touch the ground. His fingertips made contact with the stone tile freezing it. The ice crackled and travelled towards Hermione, who was balancing a tray of glass vials and walking briskly across the courtyard.

The moment her foot made contact with the ice she slipped. The tray in her hands upended and every vial of potion she painstakingly brewed and decanted came crashing onto the stone floor.

“Oh no,” Hermione’s face fell at the mess she had made. She had spent all morning brewing these potions. “No, no, no, no..” Then a shadow came over her. 

“Hermione, is it?” Loki looked down at the witch expectantly. He decided to test her in order to ascertain if she were a threat that deserved any of his attention. 

Hermione landed ungracefully on her bum with an oof and crawled backwards trying to put distance between them thinking Asgardian princes had no regard to personal space.

“Well?” Loki eyed the mess, “aren’t you going to clean this up.”

Hermione bit her tongue. “Yes, right away.” She knelt down and carefully gathered the glass. Her cheeks burning from embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” Loki’s voice was sharp as the glass in her hand.

Bewildered Hermione looked up, but not before accidentally slicing open her palm with the broken glass. A rivulet of blood dripped onto the stone floor.

“Why are you cleaning like a common mortal? Are you not a witch?” Loki asked impatiently.

“Yes, I am.” Hermione applied pressure to her cut. “I just…” For some reason, she was at a loss of words. She hastily performed a scourgify which dissipated the potion but left the broken glass. 

“Stand up,” Loki commanded. The ice had melted soaking into the pores of the stone floor.

Hermione obeyed and Loki took her hand. His skin felt remarkably cool against hers, she shivered from his touch. Something that did not go unnoticed by Loki. He smirked tracing his index finger over the cut healing it instantly. “So, I’ve been tasked by my mother to teach you defensive magic,” Loki announced. “But it seems that you don’t even have any mastery over even the simplest of spells.”

“What?” Hermione withdrew her hand.“You did this on purpose.”

“Well, at least you’re not stupid,” he said. “I was beginning to think this endeavour would be impossible.” A dagger materialized in his hand. He tilted the blade edge at her and she noticeably flinched. She blinked and felt a breeze as the dagger sailed past her embedding itself into the wooden door behind her. She involuntarily gasped. She didn’t even see him move. 

He grasped her shoulders and forcibly turned her around. “Use your magic to summon my dagger,” he ordered deciding to begin her training now.

Hermione set down the tray carefully. She held out her hand and shouted, “Accio dagger!” The dagger wiggled a bit, but remained where it was. 

“Excellent,” Loki derided, “verbalizing your spells. Let your enemies know exactly what you’re trying to do.”

Hermione felt her the back of her neck and the tips of her ears burn from frustration. She seethed and concentrated on the knife, a little too well. The entire door tore off its hinges and flew at them. Hermione ducked, and Loki snatched the handle of the blade holding it along with the door it was still attached to. 

“I suppose you might just be teachable.” He removed the blade and dropped the door on the ground with a loud thud, “clean this up.” And then he left her there.

Hermione looked at the mess and sighed. Not only was she going to have to brew a whole new batch of potions, but now she had a door to fix as well. The wood itself looked like it weighed three times herself. Thor was more than enough for her to deal with and now she was going to receive lessons from Loki. She pressed her face into her hands thinking that perhaps this was her punishment for trespassing.

~*~

Loki’s teaching methods were unorthodox. Whereas Frigga taught by example, assigned her readings, and discussed theory with her, Loki taught by throwing things at her, literally. His justification was that dangerous pointy things fly in the chaos of battle and her survival depended on her ability to dodge them. He had told her flat out that her reflexes, durability, and speed were not up to par with an Asgardian, so it was imperative that she mastered her magic if she were to survive in their world. Being so generous, he started with things that didn’t hurt so much such as the pastries he nicked from the kitchen. 

Hermione was crossing the courtyard on her way to Frigga’s chambers carrying a load of her majesty’s freshly laundered garments when Loki shouted her name from a second-story window and proceeded to dump a whole tray of fruit tarts on her. Hermione’s eyes widened and she stepped out of the way, narrowly missing all the pastries that smashed into the stone floor, only to be rained on by a bucketful of cream less than a second later. She clenched her jaw as the cold liquid soaked into her clothes and into Frigga’s garments. She looked up at Loki in anger and disbelief. 

“I even gave you a warning,” said Loki disapprovingly. He took a bite of a fruit tart he had saved and dropped the bucket, which narrowly missed Hermione. “If you had cast even a simple shield instead of just stepping aside you would not be drenched in dairy right now. You need to work on your basic spellwork. Next time I might just use something else from the kitchen that hurts more,” he warned. Then he looked down at his nose at the mess he had created and said, “clean this up,” before disappearing as he normally did leaving Hermione alone and humiliated.

She whispered scourgify and her clothes and the queen’s garments were clean again. The uneaten pastries and puddles of cream disappeared from the ground. At the very least her wandless magic was improving. She clenched her jaw as she picked the basket of clothes and walked with her head held high determined not to let Loki get to her. He was basically a worse version of Snape she reasoned, a more cunning and ruthless version of him. “I will get him back for this,” she muttered bitterly to herself. 

There were times when Loki played pranks on Hermione under the guise of teaching. Of course, Loki never once claimed to be a good teacher.

One morning Hermione woke up as she did any other day when the morning light seeped through her window. As she sat up stretching her arms overhead, she noticed something different. Her head felt lighter. She reached up to touch her hair and came in contact with skin. She screamed into her pillow when she discovered her hair was gone just knowing somewhere in the palace Loki wore that insufferable smirk on his face.

She was due to Frigga’s apartment in half an hour. Normally she went early so Frigga could quiz her on her studies, but here she was going through yet another potion cupboard. There was a potion for everything, but of course, Loki had removed all the hair growing ones.

She let out a frustrated yell and wrapped her head in a scarf before picking up her skirts and running down the hall. She was not going to be late. 

When she arrived, Frigga took one look at her scarf covered head and asked, “Hermione, what happened to your hair?”

Hermione removed the headscarf and sheepishly rubbed the back of her head, “I was at the orphanage yesterday and caught a bout of head lice from one of the children.”

“Ah, I see.” Frigga approached her and tilted her chin upwards sensing her embarrassment. She looked into her eyes already dismantling the lie.

“They were resistant to all the potions I tried, so I shaved it all off. It’s just hair. It’ll grow back,” Hermione said quickly giving her best smile.

Frigga narrowed her eyes. “Don’t lie, my dear. It’s not your strong suit,” she said without malice. “Kelda, please bring me my son.”

Kelda left without another word knowing exactly which one of her sons Frigga meant.

Loki arrived less than pleased already assuming Hermione had told his mother what he had done to her hair. “Whatever it is, I did not do it.”

“Just give Hermione back her hair. This is most unbecoming, Loki,” Frigga scolded. “I tasked you teach her magic not to bully her with your tricks.”

Loki sighed and with a wave of his hand Hermione’s hair grew back. “I am, mother,” Loki said, “my methods merely differ from yours.” 

Hermione examined her hair running a hand through it. It felt exactly the same.

“Will you please excuse us? I need to speak with my son alone,” Frigga said.

Hermione hung her head knowing Frigga confronting her Loki would only make things worse and she was right the following day she woke up to something more serious than her hair going missing.

Hermione felt something wet and sticky drip on her face. She stirred from her sleep thinking maybe the ceiling leaked or something. She rolled to her side and tried to fight the wakefulness in her body stealing a few more moments of sleep. She felt a nudge then a lick on her cheek and her eyes opened, but her body remained completely still when she realized that she was not alone.

The bilgesnipe huffed not happy to be ignored. It snorted blowing strands of her hair before attempting to eat it. She felt its breath on the back of her neck, and her eyes snapped open. Moving her head as little as possible she craned her neck just enough so she was face to face with the drooling jaws of life. Hermione screamed before jumping out of her bed trying to get as far away from the beast as possible.

Loki stood just outside her bedroom tossing an apple in the air and catching it with one hand. He took a bite as his eyes wandered to the handle where it wiggled and jiggled. He could hear her frantic desperation through the wall and door separating him and her as well as a fully grown two-ton Bilgesnipe. 

“Help!” she screamed from inside her room. The beast in front of her was bigger than a full-grown ox, but it had six legs and was covered in scales. It looked like a wingless dragon. She faced it with her back pressed up against the door. “Please! Let me out!” Her hand reached for the door handle gripping it, but it remained locked. “Please, my prince! Let me out!” She just knew Loki was behind this.

“Listen carefully,” Loki said on the other side. “And you may yet live through this.”

There were sounds of a scuffle mixed with more screaming, so Loki took it as a sign to continue. “First, do not hurt it or you will have to answer to my brother. This is his pet Bilgesnipe, Bilgy. Yes, I know. How terribly unimaginative, but you’ve met my brother haven’t you?”

Meanwhile, inside the room, Hermione had rolled underneath her bed. Dread filled her when she realized that no one was coming to help her. She tried to calm her breathing, her heart beating out of her chest. She stared at Bilgy’s thick legs as it wandered around the room looking for her. It sniffed around and soon she was face to face with its enormous snout. Then its enormous face when it hooked its horns underneath the bed pushing it up. Hermione rolled out from the other side as the bed came crashing down. She scrambled onto her feet and tried not to make any more sudden movements. 

“Don’t look him in the eye it will only aggravate him,” said Loki from the safety of the other side.

She screamed in response and the chase was on again in her tiny bedroom. 

“You looked him in the eye, didn’t you? Alright, now that you’ve made eye contact, don’t show any fear.”

The screams continued as well as the sound of furniture being thrown around and destroyed.

“I said don’t show any fear,” Loki repeated exasperatedly. “Why do you never listen?” 

A pair of guards walked by, but saw and heard nothing, while Loki continued to torment his one and only pupil.

Hermione dodged its horns and ran into the lavatory. The opening was too small for the Bilgesnipe to pass through so that bought her some time. It charged at her, but lucky for her the walls of Asgard were meant to withstand a lot of force given its super-strong inhabitants. Still, it did not bode well when she saw a crack form from the wall to the ceiling so she had to act fast. Hermione was book smart to a fault sometimes, but here it came in handy. She sifted through her mind for all facts related to space alien beasts and started rummaging through the bathroom cupboards.

She was able to find a bottle of scented bath oil pressed from the seeds of a thistle found in the Bilgesnipe’s natural habitat. Hermione recalled that during the spring it would bloom, and they would roll in the hills becoming docile and sleepy much like a cat taking catnip.

The issue was that Hermione didn’t have those flowers. She opened the small bottle and sniffed it. It wasn’t as potent as she had hoped. Then she had an idea. She poured the oil in the tub and concentrated blocking out the sounds of thrashing and Loki’s useless instructions. A single flower germinated from the puddle of oil. She half smiled and half cried when she realized her magic worked. A few more bloomed and her confidence grew. She conjured more and more flowers. Soon they multiplied and overflowed the small tub just as Bilgy crashed into the bathroom.

The beast stopped mid roar and sniffed the air before diving straight into the tub. Hermione narrowly ducked out of the way covering her head. She heard a loud crash when Bilgy broke the tub rolling in the ceramic shards and crushed flowers. 

Hermione crawled back into her destroyed bedroom to watch the bilgesnipe turn from a dangerous beast into a drowsy overgrown scale-covered cat drooling and purring.

Loki walked up behind her, “well done. Perhaps you’re not as helpless as I thought you were.”

Still fueled by the adrenaline in her veins she stood up and faced the prince. “You almost killed me!” she shouted.

Loki smirked, “I made you stronger. That was clever. You haven’t been able to demonstrate such complex magic before.”

“Yes, I have!” Hermione asserted. “If I had my wand, I would have stunned the beast. I also would have placed protection spells on my room so you couldn’t get in the first place.”

“So where is your weapon?” Loki needled. 

Hermione stiffened. This was still a sore spot for Hermione. “It was taken from me.”

“Ah, I see. And then you were rendered useless so that my brother had to save you.”

“I’m not useless!” Hermione protested. Her tone already crossed the line. In no way was she allowed to address or speak to a member of the royal family like that, but Loki seemed to enjoy her anger. “I could do almost anything you could do.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Loki laughed, “it’s amusing that you think you could ever be my equal.”

“Why is that so hard to imagine?” Hermione seethed. “You think because your station in life is higher than mine that you can treat me this way?”

“No, it’s because Asgardian and Jotunn blood runs through my veins,” Loki answered simply. “I am a god. You are a mortal. We were created unequally.”

“I am a witch,” Hermione said angrily,“I have magic just like you.”

Loki cocked his head to the side. “Do you? What are you without your wand? Just another mortal.”

“You’re not being fair,” Hermione accused. She didn’t care about that really. She just wanted him to respect her enough to not play such cruel tricks on her. “What is so wrong about using a weapon? You have your daggers, Thor has his hammer-”

“Prince Thor,” Loki corrected sharply. 

“King Odin has his staff. You expect me to defend myself without my wand. It’s not fair!” she nearly screamed. Angry tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

“But therein lies the difference between you and the rest of us. Even without his stupid hammer, Thor can tear apart his enemies with his bare hands. Odin’s magic is so strong he can strip others of theirs. But you seem to depend too much on your precious wand. What is it made out of? I can’t imagine Midgard having anything of use. It’s the most ordinary of the nine realms.”

Hermione clenched her jaw. She was tired of him belittling her and tormenting her never knowing what to expect. It set her on edge, made her paranoid, she was bound to snap. It happened at that very moment. Hermione slapped Loki across the face nearly breaking her hand. “I HATE YOU!”

Loki unfazed by her attack fixed his eyes on her, and Hermione felt the full weight of what she had done in his stare. She had just laid a hand on a member of the royal family. That was a major transgression anywhere. Her mind went into overdrive guessing what the punishment would follow. Perhaps they would cut off her hand, kill her, or worse drop her back on Midgard where she would be hunted again. Loki could have crushed her with his bare hands, no magic necessary. She expected him to do just that, but instead, he just laughed. At her.

A mixture of panic and embarrassment caused Hermione to flee. She ran without looking back for the fear that he was behind her. She fled because of the imagined repercussions far away from the palace. Still even as she ran through the grass and the open air she could not escape 

the sound of Loki’s cruel laugh mocking her.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could already probably tell that Loki is one of my absolute favourite characters to write. He’s so cool and amoral. Is it weird that I want to be him? I mean he’s no role model, but he does whatever he wants, says whatever he wants without thinking of any repercussions. There’s a certain allure to that kind of freedom. I envy that so much...
> 
> Loki made Sif bald in mythology for no reason at all, but it ended with Thor getting his hammer. Such a trickster, haha.
> 
> Bilgy is the name of Thor’s pet bilgesnipe in the animated series which I have never seen but found out when I googled bilgesnipe.
> 
> Lorelai and Amora are from the comics. They’re exceptionally powerful magic users and usually enemies/lovers of Thor in that they were always trying to seduce or entrap him.


	7. Chapter 7

_Asgard Pre-Ragnarok_

Hermione entered the cove to find it deserted much to her relief. Her legs gave out, and she slumped to the ground. Her body started shaking uncontrollably as the tears of frustration fell. All she ever wanted was to learn about magic, about the world from the safety of her books. She continued to sob feeling like she had no control over her life. She never did. Like her father had said she had the misfortune of being born a girl and then also a muggleborn.

She grabbed a small stone and chucked it into the water with as much force as she could muster. Minutes went by when she finally tired of crying about how unfair her life was. She had not cried this much since her first year at Hogwarts. She was exhausted from always having to be ready for whatever insane test Loki was going to put her through. Everything was a joke to him, a prank for his amusement. She was tired of being at his beck and call. She was tired of not having a say in her life. She was tired ...of being afraid of everything. When had she become this way, she wondered. In her relatively short life, her memories were stolen. She was cast out of the one place that was truly safe. Then she was captured and tortured to near death. And finally, she was brought here to be a plaything for the gods.

She looked out across the lake. The water was still and beautiful, a magnificent cerulean that reminded her of a certain blue-eyed god. That was the only similarity between Loki and Thor, their eyes. It was the one trait they both inherited from Odin. She wondered how two brothers raised in the same home could turn out to be so different. Hermione didn't understand that. Then again she was an only child.

She continued to stare at the water lost in the tranquillity of the silence and solitude. Light reflected off the surface from the opening at the top of the cave. Toeing off her shoes, she stood up and slowly stripped off her clothing as she tentatively approached the edge of the small cliff. Her mind fought her every step trying to pull her back, but for the first time in her life, her Gryffindor tendencies won. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and braced herself. Then she jumped in feet first creating ripples in the lake as the water swallowed her.

Fully submerged in the water, her body instinctively panicked. She flailed her arms about trying to breach the surface, but it seemed that the more she struggled the more she tired. The water weighed on her like stones. She regretted her decision instantly, and thought that she may very well die here, but suddenly an arm wrapped around her middle pulling her up.

She gasped for air and held on for her dear life.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione raised her head meeting Thor's eyes. "Swimming," she coughed sputtering water on him.

"Really?" Thor hoisted her up wrapping her legs around him securely stabilizing them both in the water. "That looked more like drowning."

Hermione swallowed nervously aware of their compromising position, but too scared to let go. "I was trying to...I was facing my fear." She looked past his shoulder avoiding his gaze and the general sight of him.

"Water?" Thor asked in disbelief. "That's such a strange thing to be scared of."

Hermione thought this whole exchange was strange. Not only had she already bared her body to Thor's gaze, she was now debating about exposing her past, which she had not yet made peace with. Hermione took a deep breath not sure how to explain such a thing as torture and the fear it invoked to someone who was obviously invulnerable to all matter of harm. "Before you found me. My captors had used all methods of torture on me, but the worse one was where they strapped me into a chair and tried to drown me in the lake."

Thor said nothing not understanding such a fear. His body was built for war and could withstand pain, fire, extreme temperatures, asphyxiation. He was also immune to disease and ageing making him nearly invincible unlike the trembling witch in his arms. She was like a flower, beautiful in her brevity.

"They wanted me to confess that I was a witch," Hermione laughed humorlessly now that she was done crying. "And when I wouldn't they would plunge me into the water. Then just when I was about to lose consciousness from the lack of air they would pull me back up to continue the interrogation. Every time I went under I got that much closer to my death. It was maddening."

"And you didn't confess?" Thor was surprisingly impressed.

"If I had, they would have killed me," Hermione explained not wanting to really go into detail about the ludicrousy of confessions regarding witch trials. "Not that it mattered in the end anyway."

Thor's hand gripped her chin gently tilting her face so she was looking at him. "You need not fear something like water. It gives life and takes it away indiscriminately unlike those who hurt you."

"I know," Hermione said dropping her gaze. "I guess it's just the memory of it all. You must think of me as weak."

"No, on the contrary," Thor's eyes softened. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

Hermione's head snapped up; she was taken aback by his response.

"I think you are very brave and strong to resist torture. It's even more admirable that you came here to face your fears."

"I don't think I accomplished much," Hermione said unused to hearing such compliments from the likes of Thor. "If you haven't been here, I would have drowned. Again."

Thor sighed, "you cannot defeat something as unwavering as water. You mustn't fight it, but surrender your body to it. Lay on your back," he instructed.

Hermione's eyes widened, "what?" She would rather be pressed up against him than exposed to his gaze. She shook her head and tightened her grip around his neck.

"I'm teaching you how to swim. Lie on your back," Thor repeated. He was already shifting her off his body, which Hermione involuntarily protested. She tried to hold onto his enormous biceps, but the water on their skin made everything slippery.

"I...I don't...I don't think we should, not here." _Not with you_ , she thought.

"If you're going to keep sneaking into my private alcove, then the least you could do is not drown," Thor said. The corners of his lips tugged into a teasing smile that held no ill will towards her.

"Then I swear I won't come back," Hermione offered. She twisted in his hold creating clumsy splashes that drenched them both. She estimated that the edge of the pool was only a few feet away, surely she could flail her arms and legs long enough to not drown as she tried to escape him.

Thor held her fast to his body expending little to no effort. "Too late, you're already here," he whispered into her ear, "you should have thought of that before."

Hermione ceased her struggle. Her body stilled but her heart continued to beat madly against her chest. No doubt Thor could feel every beat in their position.

"Look at me," Thor tilted her chin up so he could take all of her in. The speckling of freckles over her nose and cheeks covered by a hint of a blush, her wide brown eyes, trembling pink lips. "There is nothing to be afraid of. Close your eyes," he commanded softly.

She obeyed and squeezed her eyes shut feeling her cheeks heat up in embarrassment as Thor reoriented her body so she wasn't flushed against him. His hands gripped her shoulders lightly as he laid her on her back. His other arm pushed up her legs, so she floated on top of the water like a stiff wooden board. She quickly pulled her legs in arms wrapped tightly around them making herself into a shape of an egg in a feeble attempt to protect her modesty. Something Thor couldn't help but chuckle at. She also started sinking like a stone.

"Relax." Thor kept her afloat by cradling her since she decided to make herself into a small bundle. Her body trembled whether it was from the cold water or Thor's touches, which to his credit had only been innocent at this point.

"Extend your legs." He prodded them gently with his hand. When she wouldn't release her legs, he pinched her lightly on the back of her thigh. She squeaked and relented. "Arms by your side. You'll sink if you clench your body like that." He gently unwrapped her arms and straightened her legs. Placing a hand on her stomach while his other arm supported her back so she wouldn't sink. Hermione fully unravelled in his arms. She kept her eyes closed tightly since she couldn't bear to see him looking at her while she was so vulnerable.

"You're not going to drown," Thor reassured her. His voice soothed her and the tense muscles in her back loosen while her breathing evened out. Then he let go.

He watched her silently as she floated peacefully on her back her brown mane forming a halo around her head. She was lovely to behold. Pale smooth skin, soft curves on a delicate frame. She was fragile and vulnerable but surprisingly trusting.

Hermione yelped when she felt herself being lifted out of the water. Startled she opened her eyes to find Thor's staring back at her with a dark smile playing at his lips.

Steadying herself by wrapping her arms around Thor's heck, she nervously bit her bottom lip before breaking the uncomfortable silence."I thought you were going to teach me how to swim." She looked up at him all innocent and bewildered.

Thor grinned. "Later," he said as he lowered his mouth onto hers. Her lips were soft and sweet against his. And as he pulled her closer he felt the heat from her flushed skin.

She broke the kiss and pulled away as far as Thor would let her. She looked up at him wide-eyed and startled as if she had forgotten something.

"What's the matter?" Thor's eyes narrowed in confusion, "do you not want this?" What he meant to say was _you don't want me_. No one had ever rejected Thor's advances, ever. He didn't even have the emotional range to express what he felt at that moment.

"Bilgy!" Hermione panicked, "he's still in my room! I have to go!" She splashed around trying to swim to shore. She paddled her feet and arms trying to keep her head above water. The distance to the shore was a mere meter, but it was like trying to cross an ocean for her.

"What is a Bilgy?" Thor followed her creating waves that submerged Hermione from behind.

Hermione stopped flailing and Thor caught her before she sank like a stone. She closed her eyes realizing that she had been tricked again. "Nothing," she dropped her chin avoiding Thor's questioning gaze.

"Then why were you panicking just now?" Thor asked skimming his fingers across her abdomen tickling her. He pressed himself against her back making his intentions with her very clear.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes trying to focus on anything but Thor, but it was so _very_ _hard_. "Because there is a sleeping bilgesnipe in my bedroom right now."

Thor laughed, "I have never heard that excuse before. Nor has anyone ever rejected my advances," he boasted.

Hermione adamantly shook her head, "I'm not lying. Loki put it in my room to teach me a lesson or something. I think he hates me."

At the mention of Loki's name, Thor's expression became serious. He turned her around in his arms so she faced him. "No, Loki likes to play his tricks. He's nearly killed me several times. There was one time when we were children, he transformed himself into a snake and he knows I love snakes, so when I went to pick it up to admire it he transformed back into himself and stabbed me," Thor playfully grabbed Hermione's side eliciting a shriek from her. "We were eight at the time," he finished the story with a fond smile on his face.

Hermione was at a loss of words, "how are you so…"

"Forgiving?" Thor supplied, "because we Asgardians live for thousands of years and it makes little sense to hold onto such grudges. Besides, he's my brother and I love him."

"And you are certain he loves you?" Hermione asked dubiously.

Thor smiled, "in his own way, yes."

Hermione frowned, "you must forgive me if I don't share your love of him. He has done nothing, but torment me."

Thor shrugged, "then get revenge." He was tired of talking, so he placed a kiss in the spot where her jaw met her neck and then planted another one and another lower and lower. "If you want his respect," Thor said turning her around so she faced him. He cupped her backside and lifted her up so he could see more of her unobscured by the water. "Beat him at his own game," he said before continuing his exploration her. He found her delightfully soft and very sensitive to his touch. He paused smiling against her skin, "or let me hurt him for you."

"That is…" Hermione gasped when Thor bit down on a particularly sensitive spot, "very kind of you, but I cannot retaliate. He's a prince. And as are you! This is most inappropriate!" She tugged on his hair half in protest and half in ecstasy, which only encouraged him.

Thor lifted his head and grinned. He kissed her on the mouth, "why?" he asked in between kisses. He pushed apart her legs using his knee forcing her to straddle his thigh.

"Um…" Hermione grew lightheaded from the kissing. The reasons in her head suddenly seemed trivial as Thor's hands travelled over her body. She never felt so free and light before unencumbered by the Protestant guilt that was so prevalent where she was from. Then she remembered the woman she saw him with the other night and her lot in life may have taken a turn for the worse, but she still had enough self-respect to not be another conquest, so she broke the kiss. "Wait," she said.

Thor groaned, he was not a patient man, "what now?" His grip on her tightened and Hermione felt squeezed.

"I just…" she stalled still trapped in his arms and unable to swim. Trembling from a combination of nerves and the uncertainty of her plan she kissed the corner of his mouth shyly her arms wrapping around his neck embracing him fully for the first time. Then she looked up at him and flashed a coy smile trailing her fingers from his strong jawline to his neck. Her lips followed not trusting herself to speak as seduction had never been her strong suit. Thor moaned appreciatively and his hold on her loosened. She sank a little deeper before taking a deep breath and submerging herself.

Thor smiled as she disappeared leaving a small wake of foam and bubbles in the water thinking she was merely teasing him. She slipped from his arms descending further.

Her eyes were shut. It was so important that she not panic as she focused on the three Ds of apparition. She had never done this before, apparating in water.

"Hermione?" Thor called when she didn't reemerge after an uncomfortable amount of time. "Hermione!" he shouted before diving underneath the water to look for her.

A short distance away hidden from where Thor was Hermione who apparated onto the cliff's edge, and when she saw Thor go under she hastily pulled on her nightdress she had been wearing when she left Loki standing in her bedroom before apparating to the servants' barracks to change her clothes. She wore a big smile on her face as she breezed past the guards silently celebrating her progress. This day held so many highs and lows for her, but she chose to focus on the good. Her magic was improving and one day she would use it to escape this place. Since coming to Asgard, she had learned of worlds beyond Earth, and while every realm seemed to have their own conflict and problems, she had hoped that one day she would find a place for herself away from the wizard hating muggles, muggleborn hating wizards, and most importantly Loki.

That wonderful feeling disappeared as she approached the wing where her room was located. The door was closed and nothing seemed amiss. She cautiously approached the door, placing her hand on the handle. Opening it just a crack she peeked in and to her astonishment, not only was the bilgesnipe gone, but her room was completely repaired. There were no signs of the altercation before. She breathed out a sigh of relief and let the door fall open.

Everything was in its rightful place as if the scuffle from this morning never occurred. But on closer inspection, she noticed her bed was different, and so was all the furniture that was ruined. Everything was replaced including the tub. Magic did not touch any of it. The plaster on the wall was still fresh. As she walked further in, the door shut behind her.

"I was not finished with our lesson today, Hermione," Loki said leaning against the back wall. "Where have you been?" He eyed the damp hair and change of clothes. "Did you fall into a lake when you were running away from me?"

Hermione just wanted to be left alone. Whatever punishment or words she was going to endure with Loki, she wanted it over with as soon as possible, so she kept silent.

"Do you not have anything to say? You were so forthcoming with your feelings about me earlier," Loki stalked up behind her. "Look at me when I speak to you."

Hermione reluctantly heeded the command turning around and looking up. It was so unfortunate that everyone towered over, but she was done with feeling small. "Please leave my room," Hermione said impassively, "this is the one place I have any shelter from the likes of you."

"You grow too bold and forget your place," said Loki. His voice increased to a deafening volume as he stepped closer to her, "I allowed you to air your grievances with me earlier, but have resp-"

"No," Hermione said calmly not backing away, "you do not deserve my respect. Yes, me. A lowly mortal refuses to bow down and kiss your feet. It was Prince Thor who saved me and the Queen who took me in. I owe no one else my allegiance. Now if you will excuse me, your majesty. I have tasks I must attend to that I was not able to complete this morning." Hermione moved past Loki.

Not one to let her have the last word Loki slammed his arm across the door blocking her path. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Please let me go." Hermione was so tired of this; she didn't even have the energy to be afraid anymore.

Loki opened his mouth for another cutting remark when Thor banged on the other side of the door.

"HERMIONE!" Thor bellowed.

"Oh look, it appears that my brother has come to save you again," he backed away from the door.

Thor continued to pound his fist against the door shaking the walls of the room. "I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! THE GUARDS SAW YOU! LET ME IN! YOU LEFT ME OUT THERE! I THOUGHT YOU HAD DROWNED!"

An amused smile formed on Loki's lips, "or perhaps not. Have fun."

"What?" Hermione turned around only to find that Loki had already disappeared having escaped through the opened window in his fly form. To Hermione, he simply vanished.

Hermione opened the door to find a very irate half-dressed Thor still wet from their little interlude in the cave.

She backed away as Thor approached her until her back hit the wall and his arms caged her in. "What did I say about displeasing me?" he growled.

Hermione winced and wished the wall would swallow her so she didn't have to face his rage, "I'm very sorry, your majesty. It was not my int-"

His hand balled into a fist slamming into the wall above her creating fissures in the plaster. "Do you think of me as a fool?" Thor asked making his displeasure known.

Hermione swallowed nervously. "My apologies, your majesty. You must understand," Hermione began to lie, "I was not prepared for your affections. You simply overwhelmed me that is all."

The anger seemed to dissipate from Thor's being and Hermione realized just how temperamental the prince was.

"I had no choice but to flee," Hermione had no idea where or how she acquired the skill to lie so much, but then again all she needed to do was flatter the God of Thunder. She placed her hand on his bare chest, "I feared my own feelings for you," she looked up at him through her eyelashes all meek and demure.

Thor chuckled darkly seemingly buying it. He caressed her face with the back of his enormous hand and said, "you need not apologize. I enjoy a good chase. Especially the end where I get to claim my prize," he leaned in to kiss her.

"Sire, please!" she placed a finger on her lips and gently pushed at his chest. "I also fear what your mother might think of me," she looked away feigning shame. Although she really thought letting Thor bed her might change Frigga's opinion of her.

"My mother?" Thor's face was a perfect picture of confusion and frustration. The last thing he ever wanted to think about during a conquest was his mother.

"Yes, the queen. I have only started on her service, and I've finally gained her trust and respect. I don't want to jeopardize that. I cannot have her think of me as a common...whore," she said delicately.

Thor hesitated considering her words remembering that had been a problem in the past. He had seduced a number of his mother's handmaidens until Frigga put her foot down and forbid him from touching any of them ever again. He normally didn't cross his mother though she never specified anything about Hermione. "Did my mother say something to you?"

Hermione wished she had studied legilimency. "Yes," she answered carefully, "no affairs with the princes of any kind is permitted. My devotion needs to be solely to the queen."

"Really, she normally warns me away personally," Thor seemed distracted, so Hermione ducked underneath his arms and hastily exited her room thinking that nowhere was safe for her anymore, not with these two princes roaming about. She looked back at Thor who was still confused. "Hermione," he called.

"No! Please, I cannot." She bowed her head and curtsied before taking off in a near run into the halls. Thor didn't

Thor followed his strides longer and faster than hers. He rounded in front of her cutting off her path of escape, "I think you're playing with me," he chuckled darkly. "You don't know what a dangerous game you play." For every step he took toward Hermione, she had to retreat two steps to avoid his reach. He towered over her now that they were on solid ground.

Hermione wanted to scream her frustrations, why can she not escape these two brothers? It was because she was born centuries too early for sexual harassment laws. "Your majesty, this is not a game. What happened in the lake, it can never happen again," she pleaded, all out of lies. "For both our sakes," she desperately needed to convince Thor to leave her alone so she could focus all her energy on what was really important, getting even with Loki.

Thor did not know what to do with that. He stared at her as if this was the first time he had ever heard the word no. Never before had the God of Thunder faced rejection. He also didn't like to be made a fool of. Just as he was about to lash out at her, Hermione pulled up her sleeve baring her wrist with the mark.

"I'm very grateful. You've saved my life three times now. I would do anything for you, but just not," she did her best to look contrite, "that. I have magic, a real aptitude for book learning, potion-making," Hermione rambled on listing her strengths, which were all academic in nature. She wasn't trying to sell herself short, but she was basically a nerd with magic, "do you really want to waste such a favour when you could find at least a hundred more desirable and willing bed partners just by...well, being you," she finished presenting her case and hoped he would accept.

Thor inhaled his frustration and turned to leave. "I may have some treaties that need revising. I expect you in my quarters this evening." He looked over his shoulder and decided for once in his life to retreat. He would let her go for now only because he was confident he would have her in the end anyway because Thor always got what he wanted

Hermione nodded trying not to seem too relieved, "absolutely, my prince." She curtsied again and walked away in the opposite cherishing that one small victory.

_Space Present Day_

Valkyrie sliced open a cold bottle of effervescent elf wine pilfered from The Grandmaster's personal cellars with her Dragon's Fang. The cap popped off with a satisfying hiss. She blew away the foggy vapour and sparkling bubbles before plunking it down next to Danvers.

"No, thanks," Carol said stonily. "I don't drink and pilot spaceships." Sitting in the pilot's seat, she typed in the coordinates to their next destination and steered the front of the ship aiming for the wormhole ahead of them.

"Fine, more for me." Valkyrie deftly swiped the bottle from her. "You don't know what you're missing." She downed the bottle as fast as she spoke disappearing into the back of the ship.

The side of Carol's mouth twitched into a slight smile. "I've never met anyone like you."

Valkyrie stuck her head out from the small kitchenette, "And I've never met anyone like you," she parroted back drunkenly.

"What? An earthling? A human?" She pulled a few levers, flipped some switches. The engine hummed as it came online.

"A decent member of the Kree species," Valkyrie answered.

"Well, I'm only part Kree and that part was an accident," she turned around searching for her new copilot.

Valkyrie leaned against the frame of the partition. It was a small, but fast ship. She took a generous gulp from a different bottle. "I've just never met anyone, so…." her eyes narrowed searching for the right word, "righteous? Compelled to do good. Is everyone on Earth like you?"

"You mean because I helped you?" Carol's smile widened, "we met in the most lawless place in the entire universe. I think you're setting the bar a little low there."

"That's true." Valkyrie patted her on the shoulder before strapping herself into the seat next to Carol. "I'm still shocked that we managed to get out." They had basically punched their way out after they located Carol's ship, which had been thankfully still intact after she fell through the wormhole. "No one ever escapes from Sakaar. We should probably get going. Now that we're fugitives and because…"

"You stole the Grandmaster's beloved champion," Carol finished quite smugly.

"Yes, well I found her first," Valkyrie returned the look with a sly smile, "and I found-"

"Stole," Carol corrected.

"a barrel of Aakonian ale," she bragged, "it's even older than I am. It has got to be at least a million years old."

"If I cut your arm open are you going to bleed elf wine or dragon ale or whatever it is that you drink in massive amounts?" Carol guessed her blood alcohol level could kill several humans.

"I guess I better drive." Carol pulled the main lever and their backs slammed into their seats as the ship took off in warp speed into a wormhole. The whole ship shook from the strain. "How old are you anyway?" Carol groaned out. The entire cockpit lit up like a Christmas tree as they sailed past stars and galaxies.

Valkyrie tsked, "never ask a lady's age."

"I don't even know your name," Carol said. She felt the pressure build up in her ears. It was her least favourite part of flying.

"What?" Valkyrie shouted. Her hands gripped the armrest.

"You just said you used to be a Valkyrie!" Carol yelled.

"I was!" Valkyrie looked straight ahead at the pinhole of light in the distance and before they knew it they had squeezed through popping out on the other end like a kidney stone through the ureter.

Carol groaned, "let's not do that again...for a while," she switched the ship's gear to idle and they just floated through space. She rolled her head towards Valkyrie."I know it's not Scrapper 142."

"Can't a girl have secrets?" Valkyrie unbuckled her seat belt thinking surviving this ordeal deserved a celebratory drink. "Where are we anyway?"

"We're in the Canis Major Dwarf Galaxy," Carol said over her shoulder.

Valkyrie paused, "so we're headed to Earth."

"Not exactly," said Carol. She glanced down at the navigational monitor. It beeped and blinked. She pressed a button to switch it to infrared detection mode. Tapping her finger she zoomed out and more planets and stars appeared. "I've been following an anomaly."

"You mean the moving space fire you chased into a wormhole?"

"Well, it was more like a fiery bird thing, but yeah, I lost it when I fell into the wormhole."

"And landed in Sakaar," said Valkyrie, "where all lost things go to die."

"Or when you want to find something you didn't even know you were looking for."

"Are you sure you want to keep chasing this...firebird?"

"It sets fires to planets destroying everything."

"Right, are you sure you want to pursue something that destroys whole planets?"

Carol looked at Valkyrie, "yes, because I have to stop it."

"Right, your saviour complex. How could I forget..." Valkyrie sighed.

"I heard rumours on Sakaar when I was staying at the Grandmaster's suite of this firebird. This was where it was last sighted."

"You're blinking," Valkyrie pointed out. She tapped on her forearm.

Carol looked down at her comm embedded into the sleeve of her uniform. It read in block letters, TESSERACT STOLEN. "Fury," she said. That only meant one thing. When she looked up the space anomaly had disappeared from view. "I have to go," she punched in the coordinates for Earth and shot up from her seat running out of the cockpit.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Valkyrie called after her. She sighed and followed.

"Earth, I have to go back to Earth. There's an emergency," Carol said hastily. She reached the exit of the ship and opened the latch into an antechamber that separated the rest of the ship from space. "I programmed the coordinates into the ship's autopilot, but there's not enough fuel to make it all the way there. Do me a favour, fill her up and make sure it doesn't run into any asteroids or other ships."

Valkyrie cocked her head to the side and placed her hands on her hips."Okay, but are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Carol raised an eyebrow, "as a member of the same sex aren't I allowed to have secrets?" She shut the door between her and Valkyrie.

Valkyrie rolled her eyes. "There are some things I'm just not ready to talk about yet."

"I totally respect that. Plus there's no time," she said through the small glass window. "Also, don't drink and drive." She pushed a button releasing the airlock. The door unlocked and opened and she floated out to space.

Valkyrie shook her head and walked back to the cockpit where she saw Carol disappear in a blaze of orange and red flames.


	8. Promise

_ Asgard Pre-Ragnarok _

Hermione lined up all the glass vials neatly on her workbench. Not wanting to repeat the incident with Loki, she cast a charm to make the bottles unbreakable before decanting the liquid from her cauldron. The last few days Loki had avoided her and she cherished every moment knowing it was only temporary. She needed to prepare herself when he decided to resume their lessons. Something she was not looking forward to.

She sighed and placed all her vials in the correct spot in the potions closet before cleaning up her station. Hermione hummed to herself as she made her way to the dining hall. She surmised she had just enough time to eat a light dinner before she was due at Thor’s room for more study hall as she called it. Those nightly sessions allowed her to learn more about the nine realms through the lens of the throne. On her way, she spotted the Warriors Three and Lady Sif. Four people she had only exchanged a few words, but she knew they were essentially Thor’s entourage following wherever the prince goes. Although, Thor was noticeably absent.

“Ah, the lovely Lady Hermione!” Fandral called. The only person to have ever addressed her as such.

Everyone’s heads turned as Fandral pushed past the dinner crowd to greet Hermione. He took her hand kissing it. “You are a vision,” he winked. 

“Hermione is fine and you flatter me, Fandral,” she smiled politely.

“Come,” he said, “you must have a drink with me tonight.”

Before Hermione could refuse, she was reluctantly pulled along because Fandral never let go of her. When they joined Sif, Hogun, and Volstagg at the entrance of the dining hall, she carefully extracted her hand.

“La- I mean Hermione,” Fandral casually slipped his arm around her waist. “You remember Hogun, Volstagg, and the Lady Sif.”

“Hello,” she greeted everyone a little awkwardly since she had not been expecting to be in such company.

Sif and Hogun exchange pleasantries not really knowing what to make of the mortal, an outsider that largely kept to herself. 

Volstagg was a little more curious. “I have questions for you, mortal,” he declared boisterously. “Is it true that you are a witch from Midgard? What are you doing here?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered. As for the second question, she still had no idea.

“I didn’t even know such a thing existed. Witches! In Midgard! That’s the last place I’d expect ‘em” His stomach jiggled as he laughed. At that moment a large green fly flew into his eye and Volstagg cursed. “Stupid fly. I swear this has been following me the entire day, and I can’t seem to kill it.” He withdrew his axe and everyone gave him an extremely wide berth as he swung at the fly unsuccessfully.

Fandral laughed good-naturedly. “What my rotund friend means to ask is how did you find yourself here? There’s a lot of mystery surrounding you,” he lowered his voice assuming it was more seductive that way. “A beautiful, fragile mortal amongst Asgardians and gods. It must be very strange to you.” Fandral had taken Hermione’s hand again in his not at all taking the dismay on her face to heart. “How do you like Asgard so far?”

“Um, it’s very clean and gold,” Hermione said ineloquently as she desperately looked around trying to come up with a way to excuse herself from the present company. Instead, as the dinner crowd grew they all got pushed into the hall and she soon found herself sandwiched between Fandral and Volstagg, while she picked at the ample selection of dishes suddenly not hungry anymore. She normally took her dinner in her room after the king and queen had already dined, and she dearly wished she had done that this evening.

Sif, who sat across from Hermione, poured a generous goblet of wine and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she smiled gratefully taking the proffered cup from Sif. “How did you even know I was mortal?”

“Well, you’re quite small!” Volstagg exclaimed. “Are you full grown?” 

“You’re a planet, Volstagg. She’s only small to you because your enormous stomach eclipses everything including her,” said Sif rolling her eyes. That garnered a chuckle from the stoic Hogun.

“I’m actually normal size for a human,” Hermione said taking a sip of her wine nearly choking on it when the alcohol hit her palate. It was very strong. She set the goblet down not trusting herself not to lose her wits if she consumed the entirety of its contents. She very much needed all of her wits about her when dealing with Asgardians. “I assure you.” 

“Really?” said Volstagg, who was quite astonished. “You are as tall as my one of my daughters, who has only seen a dozen winters, yet you have all the hallmarks of a mature female, a lithe and svelte figure, fully formed brea- Ow,” Volstagg smacked himself in the face. “It’s that blasted fly again! It followed me in here!” Another bite and this time it drew blood. Volstagg continued to swot at the nefarious fly knocking over goblets of wine. “All this food and it only wants to eat my flesh...I swear it is as annoying as Loki!”

Volstagg suddenly stood up, his giant jolly belly nearly upending the table. The fly buzzed away. Hermione’s eyes followed him. She slipped a jar of her favourite compote butter into the pocket of her outer dress robe. 

“To answer your question, Volstagg. Humans simply age faster. That explains their short lives relative to ours.” Loki had arrived standing directly behind Hermione.

“No one asked you,” Volstagg grunted. “Where did you even come from?” He sat back down and dug into a shank of roast meat not really caring about Loki’s response.

“Hermione,” Loki said, “I’m surprised to see you here.” He made no indication that he was joining them just staying long enough to annoy them before retreating into his room and sanctuary.

Hermione looked up at Loki still angry at him. “I know you may all see me as an aberration in your perfect society, but we also eat on earth.” She was admittedly bolder in the presence of witnesses. 

Loki smiled tightly, “indeed I forget that you are just like us.” He mocked. Pleased for once that he wasn’t the target of the Warrior’s Three’s japes.“Except for your susceptibility to disease and the ravages of time, your weak bone structure, your skin isn’t even flame retardant,” Loki said as if that came standard with every Asgardian body. “You die if it is too hot. You die if it is too cold. You die if you fall from too high of a height. I could go on.” His voice was light as if he were merely teasing her like Sif had done to Volstagg earlier. The Warriors Three were fooled, but Hermione was not.

“Be my guest, but if you will excuse me, I cannot stay for the rest of your tirade.” Hermione stood up abruptly and bowed her head. “You are right my prince in your assertions, but unlike you, I need not put others down to make myself feel better,” she smiled graciously. “You like to feel superior only because it comforts you when you’re alone in your room wanking into your hand because no one likes you.” 

Everyone stared at her stunned. Even Volstagg’s mouth fell open mid-chew, so Hermione seized the moment to leave. She grabbed a savoury pastry pie tucking it into her robe for later consumption. As soon as she exited the dining hall into the empty corridor, Loki grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“You have no right to speak to me that way,” he said dangerously not letting go of her arm knowing he just applied just enough pressure he could break her.

“What gives you the right to speak to me the way you were?” Hermione questioned not backing down.

“I was merely listing facts. You can hardly fault me for that.”

Hermione laughed wrenching her arm away. If Loki hadn’t let go she may be holding a dislocated shoulder. “What must it be like? To be you? To be so spiteful and to have so little tact…”

“It is so very freeing.” 

“And so little self-awareness. Are you really that thick?” Hermione looked at Loki as if he were crazy. “Everything word you have spoken to me has been insulting and demeaning.”

“Would you rather I lie to you? Flatter you with false words? I have no need to do that with you as you have nothing to offer me. Honestly,” Loki paused, “you’re the only one I don’t lie to.” He smiled as if that were a privilege he had bestowed on her and only her.

Hermione sighed, placing a hand on her forehead. She was getting a headache simply talking to him. “What have I ever done to you?”

Loki shrugged, “my mother burdened me to teach you magic.”

“Then consider yourself unburdened. I can teach myself magic.” Hermione said decisively and went on her way expecting the conversation to be over.

Loki wasn’t finished though, so he followed her. Only he had run out of ammunition. He had covered all the bases about her being, short, short-lived, and weak. He supposed he could make fun of her hair.

“Do you hate me?” Hermione spun around sharply when she realized he was still following her.

The question caught Loki off guard. “No, why would you assume that?” 

Hermione nearly screamed out of frustration instead she gritted her teeth and replied, “because you torment me. You belittle me.” She hated having to repeat herself.

Loki acted as if he had no idea as to what she was talking about.

Hermione huffed, her hands clenching against the fabric of her dress silently counting to ten. “I’m merely asking what have I done to deserve such treatment from you,” she said calmly.

He shrugged. “An ant has no quarrel with a boot,” he answered cryptically.

“What?” her eyes narrowed at him critically. “So I’m not worthy of common decency because you think yourself above me.”

Loki smiled but it lacked warmth, “I like this. Our conversations. I find this fun.”

Hermione hung her head feeling like this conversation was going nowhere. “Will you please just leave me alone?”

Loki pretended to consider it and then said, “no.”

Hermione fumed, “so you’re just going to follow me everywhere? Do you not have anything better to do with your time,  _ your highness _ ?”

“He’s going to have dinner with me,” Thor interrupted. He clapped his hand on Loki’s back having walked up to them while they were busy feuding.

It was the first time Hermione had ever seen the two brothers in the same room, let alone interact with each other. It seemed very unnatural to her. They were so different in every conceivable way from their physical appearances, mannerisms, and overall presence. If she didn’t know any better Hermione would have assumed that there was no blood relation between the two.

“We dine with mother and father every fortnight in their chambers,” Thor explained to Hermione, “and we’re late.”

“Oh, how I dearly love these get-togethers,” Loki said dryly. 

“Hermione, I will see you in my chambers later this evening,” Thor winked. “I’m looking forward to it.”

There was an imperceptible shift in Loki’s demeanour as he watched the interaction between Thor and Hermione.

Hermione nodded, “I should have the first drafts all completed by the time you finish your supper,” she stated so there was no misinterpretation as to what her business was in Thor’s room. “Flowa was most kind to pick out some reference material for me on Nidavellir. I’m on my way to the library to retrieve them.”

“You’re having her do your paperwork?” Loki asked incredulously.

“She enjoys it,” Thor insisted. He winked at her again. 

“I do.” It was all relative to Hermione. The choices were to be tormented by Loki or fucked and discarded by Thor. “I must be on my way, enjoy your dinner, your majesties,” she curtsied and walked away leaving the brothers alone to do whatever brothers do.

“You seem quite taken with the mortal,” Loki observed. 

Thor watched Hermione disappear around the corner before turning to his brother. “Aye, she’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? Who knew such beauty even existed on Midgard.” 

Loki rolled his eyes thinking how simple and predictable his brother was. “It’s not like beauty is in short supply here in Asgard. She’s pretty, but nothing special. Not with the likes of Freya, Sif, or even Lorelai and Amora, who still grace the Nine Realms.”

Thor groaned palming his face. “Don’t remind me. Those sisters were beautiful, but conniving remember? They drugged us both with love potions.”

“True.” Loki’s memories were a bit hazy under the influence of said potions. Rarely anyone tricked the Trickster himself, so he always had a begrudging respect for the exiled sisters. “Don’t know why they couldn’t just seduce us with their looks alone instead of resorting to tricks and potions.” The irony of those words was not lost on Loki.

“That is because beauty on the surface cannot mask the darkness of the soul.” That was perhaps the most profound statement to ever pass Thor’s lips. “Hermione, she’s pure of heart. I can tell.”

Loki laughed at his brother’s naivete. Thor may be older, but he was certainly not any wiser. “You don’t know that. She’s a witch. Mortal, but still magical. Any little bit of power corrupts. Besides she’s going to be wrinkled and old in another decade or two.”

Thor shrugged, “Either way, I will have her.”

“Do you not think of anything else but where to put your cock in next?” Loki began walking.

“What else is there to think about?” Thor followed his brother. “War, glory, and women,” he grinned.

“A lot more than that if you’re going to be King,” Loki muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said we’re going to be late.” Loki picked up the pace not eager to spend too much more time with his brother. 

~*~

Hermione spread the last bit of the sweet-savoury butter onto her pastry. Finishing her dinner she uttered a quick scourgify cleaning the crumbs and the jam jar she would save for later use. She stretched her arms and muffled a yawn with her hand. The evening was still early, and Thor still had not returned. So she put her head down and got to work hoping to finish before Thor came back from whatever or whomever he was doing.

No such luck for Hermione. The heavy door opened with a loud groan, but only the sound of a single pair of footsteps echoed along the chamber.

“You’re still here,” Thor said acting pleasantly surprised as if he didn’t excuse himself from dinner early and forgo his normal nightly prowl for a quick fuck in the taverns outside the palace just to see her.

“I’m almost finished, your majesty,” Hermione glanced up at Thor slightly flustered that he was just standing there watching her.

“Don’t hurry on my account,” said Thor. He walked over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself two goblets of wine.

Thor returned to the table placing a goblet next to Hermione, who ignored it as she was so focused on the complex wording of the contract she was writing.

The chair made a loud sound as it scraped along the floor highlighting the tense silence that made Hermione uncomfortable. Thor unbothered by it took a seat directly across from her.

She increased the pace of her work scribbling furiously trying to finish.

Thor rested his head on his folded arms. His stare was a mix of lustful and mild inebriation, while Hermione hoped the flush on her cheeks were not as noticeable in candlelight. She deliberately avoided his gaze focusing on the tome in front of her.

Thor not content to be ignored flipped the text she was reading closed.

Annoyed Hermione tried to reopen the book, but it was weighed down by Thor’s hand.“My prince, I am almost finished,” she reassured. Then she had a better idea. She started gathering the papers and books. “If you want, I can take this with me and finish in my chambers.”

“No, stay,” Thor smiled softly propping himself up with his other arm. “That can wait.”

“Your majesty, with all due respect, this cannot wait,” Hermione said humorlessly. “This is-”

Thor plucked the sheet of parchment she was writing on. “Dwarves again?” he frowned. “They have more than enough gold.”

“Yes, that is precisely why your father wanted to negotiate better terms. Asgard has increased its mining endeavours on Nidavellir these last few months producing more precious metals. The output has increased, but it continues at a loss due to the original lease agreement set forth by the dwarves.”

Thor wasn’t really listening. He tossed aside the report and casually grasped her wrist forcing her to release the quill in her hand. Thor ran his thumb over the mark on her wrist. “It’s still there,” he said, “you’re still mine.”

She cleared her throat softly and tried to extricate her hand from Thor, but he wrapped his hand around her wrist pulling her just enough to fully extend her arm, so he could place a kiss on her palm. Eye contact was never broken. “To do what I wish,” he smiled when she shivered from the contact. Hermione was only human after all.

Hermione’s breath hitched. That was what she was afraid of.“I complete your work. You leave me alone.” Hermione said cautiously. “Is that not what we agreed upon?” She sounded so hopeful about the last part.

“I made no such promises,” Thor said still not releasing her hand. “Why do you resist me?” He continued to kiss up her arm. This was probably the hardest Thor had ever worked to seduce someone, but he enjoyed a challenge.

“Because you continue to pursue me,” answered Hermione in a tone that implied that it was solely Thor’s fault.

“And we can continue this game, indefinitely,” Thor smiled. “Or I take that dress off of you and we finish what we started at the lake.” He nodded over to his bed, “over there where it’s more comfortable.”

Hermione gasped scandalized by his proposition. Thor laughed and released her arm. She immediately hugged it against her body. Her skin tingled where his lips were and she tried to rub the feeling off. “Or we both keep our clothes on and call it a draw.”

Thor chuckled darkly. He poured himself some more wine. “no, when I play, I play to win.” He had the gall to wink at her.

She gripped the table with both her hands. It was the only thing standing between her and Thor. “I’m not some sort of prize you won on Midgard,” Hermione seethed. 

Thor propped his chin on his elbow feigning confusion, “are you not? The mark on your wrist says otherwise.”

Hermione levelled her gaze with his. “A life for a life. That’s what it means. You saved mine. Someday I will save yours,” she said matter of factly because there was no way she was staying bound to Thor for the rest of her life. She shuffled the papers on the table and returned to work.

Thor laughed, “the day I need saving is the day I lay down my hammer, trade my trousers for a dress, and marry a giant.” He shook his head and more wine flowed into his cup.

Hermione looked up huffing indignantly, “everyone has a weakness. You’re not entirely invincible.”

“Thus far, that has been unproven,” he leaned back in his chair. “So you’re mine for the foreseeable future.”

Hermione refused to accept this. “One day your brother is actually going to kill you,” she said, eyes never leaving her parchment, “and you’ll be thankful I owe you.” She made a show of crossing out some lines deciding to rewrite a whole paragraph intent on ignoring Thor. 

“Loki has never been able to kill me,” Thor boasted as if it Loki’s casual assassination attempts were a neverending game the two brothers played. Although, they were royalty and royals played the game of thrones like high stakes musical chairs. 

“Yes, I can see that,” Hermione answered without looking at him.

“I’ve fought giants, trolls, kronans, dragons.”

“Oh.”

“Nothing can harm me.”

“Hmmm..”

“Not even magic.”

Hermione’s quill snapped in her hand. Her fingers twitching, she grabbed another one next to her and turned the page.

“I can prove it to you.” Thor grinned knowing he had her attention. He stood up and finished the rest of his wine. Wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he tossed the goblet aside. “Hit me.”

The cup never made it to the ground. It exploded when it collided with Hermione's spell. She had been waiting to hear those words from Thor and didn’t even know it.

“That was impre-” Thor choked on his words when another blast hit him squarely in the chest.

Hermione got up from her seat. A blast that size and direct should have killed or at least maimed, so she redoubled her efforts. Extending her wand arm she shouted, “expulso!”

Thor had the sense to dodge this one. It hit the wardrobe behind him causing the wood to splinter and explode. It helped that Hermione verbalized her spells.

“Diffindo! Reducto!” Hermione fired spells in succession destroying all of Thor’s furniture. For a man that size, he moved quite quickly. Her spellwork was not as precise, but her aim was maximum damage and the devolving state of Thor’s room was evidence of that.

Thor ducked behind a very expensive settee that broke into pieces forcing him to roll under a tapestry that hung on the wall.

“Duro!” Hermione shouted. The whole tapestry turned to stone and collapsed falling onto Thor. It should have crushed him, but in less than a second he broke through it completely unharmed. Thor got up panting. He laughed, “you’re good. Not as good as Loki.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Hermione glared at him with the smouldering intensity of a thousand dying stars, “incendio.” The bottom of Thor’s cape caught on fire.

Thor looked behind him and cursed. He was immune to fire, but he liked this particular cape. He stomped on his cape to put out the fire. Momentarily distracted, he was not prepared for the final blow.

Magic surged around Hermione and she directed it at Thor. “BOMBARDA!!!” 

Thor only had a moment to look surprised before flying back hitting the wall with a loud crack. His body rebounded and rolled landing on his back unconscious.

“Oh god.”Shocked by the power of her own spell, she ran over to Thor. Panicked, hands shaking, she touched his face and felt for his pulse. “Please be alive,” she pleaded breathlessly, but Thor just laid there motionless surrounded by the wreckage.

“No no no no no…” Hermione quickly scanned his body for any fatal injuries. She pulled away his fractured armour and torn clothing but found none. To her surprise, his skin was still warm to the touch.

Thor’s eyes opened the moment his arms caged around her trapping her against his chest. “Got you.”

Hermione gasped in surprise and relief. She relaxed and melted into him forgetting how much she detested him. Her ear on his chest listening for the beat of his heart reaffirming that she did not murder a monarch. “My prince, I thought..”

Thor angled his head and saw a mass of curls face down on his chest. He wore an amused smirk.“That you killed me?”

Hermione looked up at him and blinked.

“You care,” his smile widened, “about me.”

Hermione glowered at him, “only to the extent that I didn’t commit a capital offence by killing you. The king would have my head.” She tried to push herself up, but Thor tightened his arms. She thumped the heel of her hand on his chest only because her arms were trapped preventing her from slapping the smug smile off his face.

“Oh, but you wanted so badly to be free of me,” Thor reminded her.

“I have a conscience!” Hermione huffed indignantly. “I thought...I thought I hurt you.” 

“Hurt me?” Thor brushed the hair out of her face, so he could see her eyes. His gaze softened and he said, “you need not worry about that. You can never hurt me.” It was an odd promise, but it held all the weight of two people whose destinies were intertwined. They just didn’t know it yet.

_ Earth Present Day _

In the early morning hours, a comet soared through the air lighting up the still dark sky for a brief moment. Those pre-dawn hours were quiet, but busy for a few. Some were on their way to work. Others were just getting off a night shift. A few witnessed the falling celestial entities without a passing thought too busy thinking about their first cup of morning coffee, their menial to-do list for the day, last night’s game on the television. That was until one of these early morning commuters ran over a body.

“Goddamn it, Bill! Keep your eyes on the road!” The truck stopped abruptly from the impact of the collision. 

“What was that?” Little Bill immediately shifted gears to park. “It’s still dark out, pa. And I didn’t see anything!” He immediately got out of his truck to see what he hit.

“Dad, what happened?” asked Bill jr. who sat up in the back seat. He was trying to steal a couple of more moments of sleep on the ride to their family’s diner where they served breakfast every day at 6 am sharp.

“Stay in the car,” ordered Big Bill, the patriarch. He slammed the car door behind him as he joined his son Bill to survey the damage. He assumed it was an elk judging by the impact he felt. 

Little Bill’s jaw dropped when he saw the person he hit. “Oh shit!” He rushed over to check if his victim was still alive. He pressed his two shaking fingers where he thought the pulse would be on his neck. He exhaled the breath he was holding when he felt a strong pulse. “Thank you god, he’s alive.”

“Where did he come from?” Big Bill asked. They were in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico. There was a single road, a lot of desert, and no houses or other settlements nearby. “Jesus, he looks like he’s been through a war.” 

Thor laid unconscious in his battered armour like a fallen warrior in battle waiting for the Valkyrie to take him to Valhalla. Except he was very much alive albeit a little comatose from his trip to earth and being hit by a moving vehicle. His red cape torn. The normally shiny impenetrable Asgardian armour he wore was punctured in several places along his torso, but there was no sign of blood or visible wounds. Despite being hit by a half-ton pickup truck, he appeared to be sleeping unharmed. While the Bills’ truck was a lot worse for wear. The front was smashed up to the point that the bumper was hanging off.

“What are you waiting for? Call 911!” said Big Bill.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere here. It’ll take forever for an ambulance to come out here and back. We have to get him to the hospital.” Little Bill tried to move Thor, but he was too heavy. “What is this guy made out of? Get junior out here to help!” 

The three of them combined barely managed to get Thor onto the bed of the truck. “Get the bumper and throw it in the back!” said Big Bill, “and get in the car!”

Little Bill started the truck just as Bill jr. grabbed the fallen bumper. They were heading to town anyways and the hospital happened to be on the way to their family diner.

“Wait! What’s that?” asked Bill jr. Fifteen feet from where he stood laid Mjolnir, shiny and unblemished, in better shape than its wielder. 

“Doesn’t matter. Leave it!” Big Bill stuck his head out the window. “Get in the car, now!” 

Bill jr. climbed into the backseat slamming the door shut. As he turned around to glance out the back window, he saw the hammer gleam reflecting the first rays of morning light. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bill family comes from the comics post-Ragnarok when Thor and his reincarnated people settle on Earth. The part where Bill meets Kelda is so cute^-^ She says she’s born of wind and sky he says “I’m born of Bills” cause his grandpa and father are also named Bill, haha. I’m a Bill x Kelda shipper, so I had to include them!
> 
> Duro spell on a tapestry - one of Hermione’s most badass moments in the Battle of Hogwarts


	9. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter tags: Comic book Jane, More mild sexual content of the heavy petting variety

_ Asgard Pre-Ragnarok _

Hermione stirred when the first rays of morning light touched on her face. There was a soft buzzing by her ear. She opened her eyes to a green fly resting on her cheek. It took off as soon as it was discovered. Her eyes followed it out of the open window before her gaze settled on the wrecked room with broken furniture and scorch marks on the walls. Yawning, she reached to cover her mouth but found her arms pinned to her side. Looking down she was relieved that she remained fully clothed as did Thor whose arms were wrapped securely around her still sleeping. They laid on their sides with her back to his chest on Thor’s bed, which miraculously survived the night. 

Her head ached as she tried to remember what happened the previous night. She definitely did not finish all of Thor’s work. Angry at Thor for playing a trick on her thinking maybe he and his brother weren’t so different after all, she grabbed her belongings and tried to storm out. He followed her apologizing but also told her to relax and stop being so serious all the time. Against her better judgement, she stayed telling herself it was better to be in Thor’s company than risking finding out what was waiting for her in her own room, some sort of retribution from Loki for humiliating him in front of his brother’s friends.

Some wine was ingested, and they talked. Most of it was nonsense, that much she remembered. She mostly rambled on about Hogwarts, Harry, and Ron. How she missed all of it. All of that seemed like a lifetime ago now that she was on Asgard.

She tried to free herself by wriggling her body careful not to wake him, but Thor only tightened his hold, mumbling something incoherent before burying his face in her hair. Hermione took a deep breath. The warmth from Thor made her sleepy, but she fought it because she needed to get up and attend to her duties as a handmaiden. Unfortunately, she was trapped in Thor’s brawny arms. She tried moving again but felt something else stir against her lower half, and her eyes widened when she realized what it was.

“Good morning.” Thor’s voice was scratchy. A low rumble sounded from his chest as he flipped Hermione on her back. He rolled over propping himself up with his hand pressed into the mattress so he wouldn’t crush her with his inhuman weight.

“Good morning, your majesty.” Hermione placed a hand on his chest turning her cheek dodging his kiss. “I have to go.”

Thor, not the least deterred, kissed down the column of her neck. “Whatever it is, it can wait. It’s still early.”

Hermione squirmed as he nuzzled her neck. His beard was rough against her skin. She found that she didn’t hate it. Not at all. There was a gentleness in how he kissed her. His lips brushed against hers until she conceded allowing him to deepen the kiss. Thor’s fingers found the string that tied the top of her dress together. A single tug and the knot unraveled. He pushed the loose fabric off her shoulders leaving her more and more exposed. 

Hermione’s breath hitched when the brisk morning air touched her exposed skin. She sighed as Thor’s mouth descended immediately warming her neck and breasts. His enormous hands followed bunching the top of her dress at her waist. It was purely physical she told herself giving into her wanton feelings towards Thor. Eyes closed, thighs pressed together seeking friction, her hands gripped the back of his head threading her fingers through strands of his hair. Dazed and half naked Hermione thought she ought to put a stop to this.“I have to tend to the queen.”

Thor grimaced, opening his eyes, “please don’t mention my mother while we are in bed.” The mention of Frigga had the equivalent of an ice cold bucket of water over his private parts.

“This cannot happen again,” Hermione insisted. Taking advantage of Thor’s distraction, she pulled her dress up to cover her nakedness securing the string into place with a tight knot.

“You keep saying that, but nothing has actually happened,” Thor groaned, still hovering over her.

“The queen is waiting for me,” Hermione repeated hoping it would further dampen the mood.

“I suppose you cannot deny my mother.” Thor relented and sat up. He ran his hand through his immaculate locks making Hermione jealous. She patted down her hair self consciously.

Hermione got off the bed straightening her dress. “You’re so fortunate,” she said absently.

“Hmm.” Thor wouldn’t recognize his privilege if it picked up Mjolnir and clocked him in the face. “Really? How so?”

“She’s wonderful. The queen. She reminds me of my mother,” Hermione said fondly. She looked around the bed for her discarded outer robe to protect her from the brisk morning air. There was a noticeable chill in the room from the open balcony.

Thor’s eyes opened having fallen back into bed. That was the first time he ever heard her mention her mother, so he was curious. “Where is she? Your mother. Is she still alive?”

“I am not sure. I have not seen her or my father in many years. They’re not like me,” Hermione hastily explained. She ran her fingers through her hair muttering a quick spell to make her look more presentable. 

“They don’t have magic like you?” Thor rose up to his full height stretching his long arms overhead.

Hermione shook her head. “No, they do not.” She looked underneath the bed and found her cloak.

“How is that possible?” Thor asked. Mendeleev and his pea plants were centuries away from explaining human genetics.

“Luck of the draw, I suppose.” Hermione sighed, wrapping the cloak around herself. She didn’t feel lucky in the slightest “I am an abomination in both worlds. The purebloods thought I stole my magic. The muggles thought I was possessed by the devil and tried to kill me. My parents are better off without me.”

“That’s not true.” Thor didn’t understand Hermione’s reason for essentially abandoning her family. “Nothing is more important than family. They’re what we fight for. What we strive to protect above all else. Family is everything, as are my people.”

“Well, my people betrayed me,” Hermione smiled ruefully. “And my family is safer without me.”

“It’s clear that you miss them.” His hand cupped her cheek thumb stroking the space under her eye unable to keep himself from touching her while she was within proximity.

She looked away. “I do. How can I not? I had the most wonderful parents. When I was in school I had friends that were like me except they ran away from home because their parents were fearful of their powers.” Hermione turned her back on Thor, a sad smile on her lips. “My mother and father only ever loved me. And I endangered them just by existing.” 

He placed his hands on her shoulders brushing her hair to one side. “Do you not want to see them? You have met Heimdall. He sees and hears everything.”

“That must be a great burden,” Hermione observed. 

“Aye, but he is a god. A great one. He could find your family quite easily.” He turned her around so she faced him. “If you should wish.”

“That is not necessary.” Hermione shook her head averting her gaze. “It is better this way.” 

“Why?” Thor prodded not acknowledging that was a sensitive subject for Hermione. “I’m sure they miss you.”

Hermione smoothed out her skirts. “I suppose it is easier for me to imagine that they are happy easing into old age living out their days in my childhood home or perhaps inherited a house from a dead relative with no heirs somewhere out in the countryside of England away from all the madness,” she said wistfully. “Instead of them possibly being hunted from both wizards and Muggles for having the wrong daughter. They have no knowledge of my whereabouts and that is the only way I can protect them.” Hermione felt awkward saying all this to Thor without alcohol in her system, so she excused herself. 

The door shut leaving Thor alone in the middle of his ruined apartment. Not bothering with a change of clothes, he reached out his hand summoning Mjolnir. He caught the handle and it pulled him through the open doors of his balcony to Heimdall’s observatory.

“It is early, my prince,” Heimdall greeted with his back turned to Thor, “for you. What can I do for you?”

“I need you to find some people,” said Thor.

“You’ve come to the right place,” he smiled at his own joke.

“Hermione’s family.”

“I shall start in the location you found her and expand my search from there. My eyes and ears are open.”Heimdall looked up to the sky.

“Thank you, Heimdall,” Thor nodded spinning his hammer in his hand leaving the sentinel to his task. 

_ Earth Present Day _

Jane pressed redial on her phone for the third time that day. It rang for a minute and then went straight to voicemail. She decided not to leave another in what was probably a nearly full mailbox. She pocketed her cellphone in her white coat and walked down the hallway back to the Emergency Room. 

She stopped by the nurse’s station first.

“Dr. Foster, there’s a patient in bed three admitted thirty minutes ago,” the nurse briefed. She handed her a chart. “They found him unconscious in the middle of the field five miles south of here, but his vitals are stable. No ID.”

“Homeless, probably,” Jane noted. She took the chart. “Thank you, Katie.”

“More like a drunk cosplayer,” Darcy piped up, one of their part-time medical assistants.

“Hmm?” Jane perked up. “I didn’t know there was a convention in town.” And Jane would know because she was a nerd. A huge nerd. One of the drawbacks of living in the middle of nowhere and being a first-year attending, no time for any of her favorite hobbies let alone a love life.

“Yeah, he’s dressed like someone from God of War. Ian plays that game a lot.”

“Really?” Jane was intrigued. 

“And he’s really hot,” Darcy added, “muscley, long blonde hair, beard to match, he’s got that whole norse god look going on.”

“Duly noted,” Jane said dryly already walking away. Puente Antiguo was a small town in New Mexico that rarely presented any interesting medical cases, but Jane became a doctor to work with underserved populations. So while she would never get any journal worthy cases, this Harvard grad had delivered babies, reset bones, resuscitated people back from the brink of death, and celebrated centenarian birthdays with her favourite patients. 

Jane halted and glanced back. “Oh, if Erik calls here can you pull me out of the room? It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, interrupt me.” Jane was worried. Erik had not answered her calls for days. She had begged him to move to New Mexico with her. Let her take care of him as he had done when her father passed. But mostly so that she could keep an eye on him after he got fired, no laughed out of the Stanford Physics Department when he published a strange piece about alien Norse gods and rainbow bridges that could traverse galaxies. He refused saying that an old coot like him could only burden her, but she disagreed. No one had ever believed in her more than Erik. She attributed her love of mathematics and science from a young age, and she would not be the doctor she was now without him. Last time she heard from him, he had just been recruited to work for SHIELD, and while Jane was happy he was doing something productive, she couldn’t help but distrust the esoteric government organization having been courted by them before during her undergrad days.

Jane was on her way to see ‘John Doe’ when security ran past her nearly knocking her over.

“Excuse us, Dr. Foster!” 

“You might want to stay back,” one of the guards warned. They were headed toward patient room three. And Jane realized why when she heard the screams coming from down the hall.

“WHERE IS MY WIFE?!”

“Sir-”

“Please-”

“HERMIONE!”

Thor was awake and throwing things. All the things. A tray table full of instruments and needles, his hospital bed, the vital sign monitors, an orderly named Tim. 

There was broken glass everywhere by the guards arrived at the scene. One of them pulled out his gun and Thor simply crushed it in his hand before throwing the guard out of the room. He was immediately knocked unconscious.

That was when everyone backed away and when Jane arrived. She told one of the nurses to page back up and quickly checked on the unconscious security guard. Relieved that he still had a pulse, she ordered, “get a stretcher.”

She looked up at the man in front of her saw his crazed eyes and raised her hands in placating manner as she slowly stood up. The nurses were right, he looked like he just stepped out of a cosplay convention.. Dressed in his tattered armor, he looked like he just fought in a war too, albeit in a different century. “Sir…” she began tentatively. She stood in front of the injured hoping to at least distract him, while she waited for reinforcement.

Thor roared and threw a chair. It missed Jane hitting the back wall. It was a warning.

“Dr. Foster!” the remaining security guard protested. “Please step back!”

Jane hushed him. “Sir, I understand that you may be confused.” Jane thought he must have suffered at least a concussion or perhaps even severe brain damage.

Thor features hardened. He was panting eyes searching for other things to throw. “Where is my wife?”

“We don’t know. You were found alone,” Jane kept her eyes on him like he was a wild animal. She wondered if it was a mistake to make eye contact. 

“I want my wife.” Something came over Thor’s face. It was desperation. It was anguish. “My wife…”

“I know...I promise we will find your wife, but we have to take care of you first. What is your name?” She glanced out of the corner of the eye seeing some reinforcements have arrived. They quietly and quickly took care of those who were hurt in the altercation removing them from the scene while Jane continued to question Thor. 

Thor closed his eyes deep in concentration as if he had forgotten this one simple fact. His name. Because all he could remember was lying on a frozen wasteland surrounded by his dead comrades and staring into Hermione’s lifeless eyes. “Thor. My name is Thor.”

“Okay, Thor,”  _ strange name for a strange person _ , Jane thought. “I’m Dr. Jane Foster.” She placed a hand over her chest. “Do you have a last name?”

“What?” he growled suddenly upset again as his last conscious memory returned to him.

“Do you know where you are?” Jane tried again. She winced as he started punching things.

Thor looked around growing increasingly agitated. He was surrounded by such tiny people. “Is...Is this earth?”

“Um..yes,” Jane responded. She had so many questions, but she didn’t want to overwhelm him.

“Dr. Foster!” Darcy skidded to a stop and took in the surroundings with wide eyes. “Whoa, what happened here?” 

“I got this,” Jane waved her away. “Stay back,” she warned.

“No, you have to see this,” Darcy said. “It’s Erik.”

Jane turned around. She suddenly had a bad feeling. “What?’ 

Darcy grabbed the remote from the floor and turned on the television bolted to the upper corner of the room.

The headline at the bottom read “Stanford Professor opened a portal to another dimension. Alien invasion underway.”

Jane’s jaw dropped,“oh my god.” She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

_ It’s like a scene straight out of Independence Day. An astrophysicist and former professor of Stanford University has appeared to open an interdimensional portal from the top of Stark Tower in New York City.  _

_ Stark’s representatives have issued a statement that this disaster is no way associated with Mr. Tony Stark or Stark Industries saying Selvig and an unknown accomplice breached security and hijacked the tower. They are working on containing the situation. _

_ There’s Stark in his iconic Iron Man Suit fighting the aliens. Whether his claims are true will be determined as investigations are on hold while the attack is underway. _

_ You mean if we survive. These are actual aliens! We’ve never seen anything like this before. _

_ We are in a state of emergency. Earth is under attack. The national guard has been called and dispatched to New York City. Everyone is ordered to take shelter, preferably underground. _

_ The president and his cabinet are in the PEOC and we’re awaiting his order. _

The broadcast switched from the anchors at CNN to a live stream at the scene. The camera zoomed in on Erik Selvig who was on top of Stark Tower waving madly screaming “I WAS RIGHT!” He laughed like a crazy person as the machine behind him shot blue light up into the sky opening a black hole where the Chitauri poured out of like a cockroach infestation. “WHO’s LAUGHING NOW! THEY’RE REAL! ALIENS ARE REAL!” he shouted. For some reason he started taking off his clothes, so the screen went back to the news anchors plus Neil deGrasse Tyson.

_ And now we are joined by Astrophysicist and Director of the Hayden Planetarium in New York City, Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson. Dr. Tyson, you seem remarkably calm.  _

_ Well, Wolf, I’m not surprised. Of course there are aliens. The universe is expanding even in this very moment. The probability of intelligent life on another planet other than Earth is very high. We are a planet in one of billions of galaxies in the universe. It’s purely statistical. Of course we’re not alone. How arrogant do we have to be to believe th- _

_I’m sorry Dr. Tyson,_ _there appears to be new information coming in._

_ We have footage of the accomplice. Name and identity have yet to be confirmed. _

Another camera switch panning over to Loki in all his Asgardian regalia. He stood at a lower platform on the Stark Tower looking up at the sky, unlike Selvig who was exuberant and mad, Loki’s face was unreadable.

“That’s my brother! Loki!” Thor pointed at the screen, “on the magic mirror. I need to go there.”

He approached the tv where it was mounted on the wall. “Is this a mirror portal?” He ripped the whole thing off the wall cutting off the live stream.

“No! Don’t do that,” Jane tried to appease Thor, but he wasn’t having it.

He banged on it a couple of times when the screen went black before tossing it aside causing Jane and Darcy to jump. Not to be deterred, Thor stormed out of the patient room ripping the rest of the IVs out of his arms.

Jane ran after him, “wait! Where are you going?” She had to jog to keep up with Thor’s long strides. “I haven’t discharged you yet! You’re leaving against doctor’s orders!”

Thor ignored her, “Loki! He’s always causing chaos wherever he goes,” he complained to no one in particular. He put his fist into a wall causing a sizeable dent.

The staff in the hall parted for them like the dead sea. Thor was on a mission and no one seemed to want to stop him. “I’m going to find my brother and kill him.”

“You have to take me with you,” Jane said breathlessly thinking how she should start going to the gym again.

Thor turned around abruptly and Jane nearly ran into him. “That man on the tv, he’s...he’s my,” Jane almost says Selvig is the closest thing to a father, but instead settles on, “uncle. Let me go with you,” she demanded, “please?”

“Fine,” Thor continued to march on.

“This way!” Jane spotted the extra security they had called and quickly pulled Thor out of sight into a narrower hallway. It was no easy feat moving the God of Thunder. But Thor was eager to find a way out.

She threw open the doors to a side exit that led to the loading docks where medical supplies were delivered.

Thor’s eyes had to adjust to the brightness of the desert sun having been asleep for so long. “Do you know where that was?”

“New York City,” Jane dug out her phone to check flights.

“Good,” Thor nodded, “you will navigate us there.”

“Yeah, my car is parked this way,” she headed off in that direction still staring at her phone. “I’ll book a flight to…” then the realization dawned on her. “Oh no! All the planes would be grounded most likely. How are we going to get there?”

Thor didn’t hear a word Jane said. He held out his hand summoning Mjolnir. It soared through the air into his grasp. In a flash, Thor was fully armored up and ready to go.

Shocked, Jane said nothing as he grabbed her. He took off into the sky with Jane screaming at the top of her lungs.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Jane was a nurse in the comics because the first Thor was written in the 60’s and Thor’s alter ego Donald Blake was a doctor. I think there was one storyline where she was a museum curator? She’s a doctor battling her own cancer by the time she lifts Mjolnir.


	10. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: The Avengers are in this one, Timelines...what are those? MCU Canon Divergent AU

"So you're my brother's whore now?" Loki leaned casually against the stone column along the hall that led to Thor's apartment. His own quarters were located in the same wing. Not a hair out of place, he eyed her dishevelled appearance with vague interest. She wore the same dress, which only meant one thing.

Hermione wrapped her cloak closer around her body and ignored Loki pushing past him without saying a word. He followed and she quickened her steps.

"I suppose that would be a step up from your station as my mother's handmaiden," Loki goaded.

Hermione remained silent, not willing to dignify such baseless assumptions with a response. She held her head up high and continued walking.

Loki expected anger but was met with indifference. Not to be deterred he stepped up his taunting. "I must say I am not surprised. You seem like an opportunist. Though it would take more than a tight cunt to secure the throne. Especially for a mortal." He sneered at the very idea of a human sitting on the throne of Asgard.

"Well, I suppose if anyone would recognize one, it would be you. Perhaps it was just sex and nothing else," Hermione fibbed, " _your_ _brother_ is very handsome and as you have reiterated many times, I am only _human._ I have many deficits including a carnal weakness for beauty," she sighed dreamily, "Prince Thor is...well, I've never seen a more perfect form unclothed." She had a hunch that someone as petty as Loki would be jealous of his older brother, who was clearly favoured by Odin and everyone else. She was right.

Not to be baited, Loki fired back, "except you didn't even uncross your legs long enough to let him fuck you. You merely talked-"

"What?" Hermione stopped and turned to Loki. She peered at him suspiciously. "How did you know that?"

Loki didn't miss a beat expertly recovering from his minor slip. "I merely called you on your bluff. Mortals are quite prudish these days. Everything enjoyable is a sin to you. Your new god is no fun."

"You also called me a whore. Were you spying on us?" Anger flashed across her eyes. She hated such blatant violation of her privacy.

"He will just use and discard you," Loki said harshly avoiding the question. He stepped in front of her blocking her path. "I'll have you know, Thor takes many lovers. You are not special. His cock has been in more wenches than-."

"I never said I was in love with him. I don't care. He is not mine and I am not his." She brushed past him.

Loki conjured his astral forms six in total surrounding her. "I'm not done talking to you," all six chorused the warning.

Hermione gasped, unable to hide her amazement at Loki's feat of magic. It was beyond anything taught at Hogwarts and probably beyond what a mortal could do. His magic never failed to impress her or stir up jealous feelings. If Loki had not proven himself to be insane let alone insufferably cruel to her, she would beg him to teach her everything. "Why are you even speaking to me? As I already told you, _your majesty_. That we no longer need to meet since you are no longer teaching me."

"You decided that," said all six Lokis. "I have yet to release you from my tutelage."

"But isn't this all beneath you?" Hermione questioned. "Teaching a mortal." She folded her arms.

Loki was silenced, not accustomed to his own words used against him.

"Well?" She cocked her head to the side in a manner that annoyed Loki.

Loki had no smart rebuttal for that. He just didn't want his brother to have her. Smirking, he said, "not if you make it worth my while." Each of his astral forms took a step closing in on her.

"Diffindo!" Hermione immediately attacked incensed by what he was suggesting.

The blast went straight through one of the dummy forms. The projection shimmered before disappearing. The remaining five collapsed back into Loki's corporeal body. He stood behind Hermione. The closeness made her uncomfortable, which delighted Loki.

"That wasn't very nice," he whispered in her ear.

"I would sooner copulate with a horse," Hermione stormed off.

Loki wore a mask of indifference. He loved a challenge, and he vowed to make her life unbearable.

* * *

"Incendio!" A small spark burst into the air catching the wick of the candle. Last time she did this she set not only the candle on fire, but the table it sat on. She put it out before the fire spread to the books, but it was a sad day for her because Flowa banned her from the library. She had to do days of transcription of ancient texts in order to get back into the librarian's good graces. She massaged her right hand, just thinking about her punishment made her hand cramp.

"Accio _Magical Bonds_." The book flew from the topmost shelf into her outstretched hand. She still needed to verbalize her spells, but her control improved every day.

She thumbed through the pages as she walked to her favourite reading spot by a gorgeous bay window.

"I thought I would find you here," said Thor. He was leaning against the wall near the end of the shelves as if he had been waiting for her.

Hermione schooled her features hiding her exasperation. Bowing her head she addressed, "your majesty."

"Enough of that," said Thor pushing off the wall and entering her space, "we're alone. There's no need for airs." He brushed his hand through her thick hair tucking it behind her ear conveying a sense of familiarity that still annoyed Hermione.

Hermione hugged the thick tome to her chest using it as a shield. She worded her response carefully as to not invite any more advances from Thor. "I assume you are here because you are dissatisfied with my work on the treaties. I assure you that I will revise those drafts once I can spa-"

"No." Thor plucked the book from her arms despite her protests. He walked back to the shelf where the book belonged and reshelved it with ease. He had been watching her for a while. "I'm here for you."

Hermione opened her mouth, "as I said before, this cannot hap-"

"Heimdall found your parents. They are alive. I am here to take you to them." He turned back to her to find her expression to be neither relieved nor elated as he had expected.

"You are setting me free?" Hermione asked suspiciously. She didn't know how to feel about Thor's revelation regarding her parents.

"I didn't say that. It'll be a short visit," he said, folding his arms. Thor expected her to be grateful, but she was anything but. "I will accompany you and we will return to Asgard after."

"I didn't ask you to find them," Hermione said curtly. She turned on her heel and walked away from him angry that Thor went behind her back and also for invading her sacred space in the library of all places. She just wanted to be alone sometimes.

"Hermione, wait." He reached out grabbing her arm to stop her. "Why do you not want to see them?"

She turned around to face Thor pulling at her arm. He let go before he dislocated it. "I told you. I'm a danger to them."

"Your magic grows every day." Thor found himself watching her more than he realized. "I'm sure there is an enchantment you can use to protect them."

"If it were only that simple," she looked down exhaling a sigh, "I couldn't even save myself, remember?"

"Did you not say that your mentor had betrayed you? Someone you had trusted? That was no fault of your own. You could not have predicted that."

Hermione wiped a stray tear away with the back of her hand. She hoped the motion was subtle as she did not want to burst into tears and hysterics in present company. She focused on her shoes instead. "I'm surprised you were listening. Or that you remembered what I said." They were both really drunk that night.

"What are you so afraid of?" Thor tilted her chin so she looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"Part of me is afraid that I will endanger them. The other part," she closed her eyes as it was difficult for her to think about let alone admit, "is afraid that they've forgotten about me."

"They are safe," Thor assured her. "And it seems that you have a younger brother now." He smiled expecting her to be overjoyed.

Hermione stepped away from him and turned around to hide the tears that escaped. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. "Well, I suppose one of my fears came true then."

Thor sighed. This was a simple matter to him. He approached her from behind pleased that she didn't shirk away. She faced away from him crying silently while he pretended not to see her tears. "It did not take Heimdall long at all to find them. Do you know why?" he whispered. He was close enough to touch her, but he refrained. She seemed so fragile to him at the moment.

She sniffed and shook her head. She felt warm from his close proximity. The expanse of his broad chest against her back. She leaned into him just a little, the expanse of his broad chest against her back, to steal a bit of his strength wondering what it was like to be invulnerable like him.

"They never stopped talking about you," Thor continued. "Every day, they speak your name. They never forgot you. They miss you."

"It's better this way." Hermione bit her lip trying to force the tears to abate.

"I can see that it clearly is not," Thor objected. He already made his decision. He took her hand and led her to one of the open windows summoning Mjolnir. "Hold on." One arm secured around her waist and his free hand reaching for his hammer.

"Wha-" The words were lost in the scream that followed when they took to the air. Eyes shut, Hermione wrapped her arms around Thor's neck holding on for her dear life as the wind whipping at her hair.

Thor laughed and tightened his arm around her. "We're almost there!" he shouted against the wind.

They landed in one piece on the Bifrost at the opening of Heimdall's observatory. Hermione had never been here before while conscious, so any anger towards Thor dissipated replaced by curiosity and marvel.

As per Heimdall fashion, his back was turned, eyes fixed on the stars above. "Good evening, my prince. I see you brought the Lady Hermione. No doubt you have already informed the King and Queen as to where you are going." Heimdall smiled at his own facetiousness, and people said that the sentinel had no sense of humour.

"No, I have not thought that far," answered Thor.

"Clearly," Hermione said, glaring at him.

"I was hoping you will inform them when they've found out that we've gone."

"Certainly." Heimdall turned the sword activating the Bifrost. The light flashed and Thor and Hermione were gone instantly.

Travel by Bifrost was infinitely preferable to Hermione than flying. They landed in the lush green countryside Hermione didn't recognize. "Where are we?" It wasn't where she grew up. The clopping sound of horses alerted them to someone approaching.

A man driving a wagon on the road they were standing on called out to them, "'ello. You look lost." Indeed they looked out of place with Thor wearing his full armour and her dressed for court. The man pulled on the reins to stop the cart. "And yer in me way."

"Do the Grangers live around here?" Hermione asked tentatively.

The man pointed in the direction he came from. "Down the road you go. Granger's manor is the second-largest residence here in Greenwich. Second only to the King's." He tipped his hat to them and gripped the reins to nudge his horses forward.

Hermione and Thor stepped to the side of the dirt road and thanked him. She was even more anxious now. Grabbing her skirts she ran.

"Hermione!" Thor took off after her, surprised at how fast she was.

She stopped when she saw the facade of the manor below the small hill she stood on. Panting from exertion and nerves, she let the relief wash over her. It was clear that her parents were alright. They were more than alright.

Thor caught up with her easily. "Ready?" His easy smile was an unexpected comfort to Hermione.

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded, but froze when she heard the sound of her mother's voice in the distance.

Thor nudged her with his hand pushing her forward. "Go on, I'll be here." He folded his arms across his chest.

Hermione gave him a dark look before carefully making her way down the slight incline. Though her father was a doctor and had above-average means, she grew up in a small, dark and dank house in the crowded city of York. Here in the open clear skies the sun shining on her with a manor in the backdrop seemed almost too idyllic of a reunion. She was afraid of how her parents might react with no word from her over the last few years. They must have thought her dead just as she did them when her memory was modified.

As she neared the compound, the voice of her mother, Margery Granger, became clearer. Hermione came up to the lines where the washing was hung. Large sheets draped across the lines obscured her mother from view. She parted them until she saw her mother, who was accompanied by a maid.

"This is no good, Arabella," Margery chastised lightly, "You need to fold the sheets in half before you hang them on the line. See how they touch the ground? Please take them down and wash them again."

The maid bowed her head apologetically, "yes, my lady." She scurried off to grab a basket to collect the sheets.

"Mum?" A gentle breeze blew up the sheet revealing mother and daughter to each other.

"Hermione," Margery breathed. Her hand went to her heaving chest, eyes wide believing that she was seeing a ghost.

"Mum!" Hermione hugged her mother, while she cried.

"It's you...It's really you." Margery cupped Hermione's face with both hands. She hugged her daughter.

"Yes, it's me," Hermione said squeezing her mother suddenly overwhelmed by her own tears.

"You've come home at last," Margery sobbed into Hermione's shoulder.

Pulling back, Margery stared at Hermione unable to believe what was in front of her eyes. "How?" She grasped Hermione's arms unwilling to let her go for fear of her disappearing. "When the witch hunts started, we thought…" Margery burst into tears again before she could finish that thought. It was a thought the Grangers lived with for the last six years. "Arabella! Please fetch Dr Granger."

"Right away, madame." Arabella hastily set down the basket full of sheets and ran into the manor.

Margery wiped her eyes and took a deep breath trying to compose herself. "Where have you been?"

Hermione bit her lip not sure how to explain her absence. Thor decided to make an appearance just then having seen Hermione disappear behind a wall of sheets.

Startled by his presence, Margery asked, "Hermione, do you know this man?"

Hermione turned around to find Thor behind her waiting to be introduced. To the average person, he was quite a sight to behold with his golden hair, his towering height, his massive frame encapsulated in his red, gold, black armour. She was at a loss as to how to explain who he was wishing he had waited for her at the top of the hill instead or even better, used the Bifrost return to Asgard forgetting all about her.

"I am Thor, Prince of Asgard, son of Odin and the God of Thunder," said Thor. His title never failed to inspire awe and fear.

Margery looked at him as if he were mad."The pagan god?" she clarified not believing him at all. She pulled Hermione closer to her clearly wary of him.

"Aye," Thor affirmed, "and fertility," he added with a wink while subtly flexing his enormous biceps.

"Margery!" William Granger arrived just in time to find his family plus Thor. "Hermione! My god. It's you." He hugged his missing daughter. "It's really you! Thank the heavens! We thought you would never come back to us!"

As Thor watched the man weep tears of joy while holding his daughter, he almost considered letting Hermione go. Almost.

"I missed you," cried Hermione. She felt those words were inadequate in expressing the longing empty sadness she felt being away from him. She had always been close to her father.

When William finally looked up to meet the eyes of Thor, he had a similar reaction as Margery. "Pardon me, good sir, but who are you?"

Thor smirked, "Thor Odinson. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Like the pagan god," Margery said.

"I am a god, yes," Thor corrected.

"Oh." Clearly, William didn't know what to make of that. "I am William Granger and this is my wife Margery. So..."

Hermione smiled nervously, "I can explain. It's a very long story. But Pr-Thor brought me here."

"Then it is you I have to thank," said William hastily. Apparently not caring who this man was, he brought back his daughter after all.

"Come. You must come inside. There is someone you have to meet," Margery urged. She looped her arm through Hermione's taking her hand securely in hers.

Hermione looked back at Thor. She didn't want to ask permission, but she didn't want to be rude either.

Thor didn't have an awkward bone in him, which sometimes made others feel awkward including Hermione and present company. "This is the most wonderful reunion. I think a celebration is in order," he laughed practically inviting himself inside. "What kind of ale do you have?" He asked seriously.

"Yes, you must stay at least for dinner," William insisted. "Arabella, please prepare the empty rooms in the east wing. This is the most joyous of days!"

"Right away." The elderly maid scurried off.

Despite the size of the manor, Thor still had to duck to avoid hitting his head as he crossed the threshold. Thankfully the ceilings were high enough so Thor didn't have to hunch his way through the house.

"Your father was appointed as the King's personal physician when he saved his leg from a jousting accident not too far from here. He gifted us this manor so William can be close to his royal majesty," Margery explained.

"Mum!" A little boy about five years old with messy brown hair ran up to them brandishing a wooden sword. Margery picked him up and presented him to Thor and Hermione. "Henry, this is your sister Hermione."

"Hello," said Henry. He was more preoccupied with his toy sword. Little boys were easily distracted. Then he noticed Thor dressed in his armour and regalia with Mjolnir hanging from his belt. "Who are you?"

"I am Thor. That is a fine sword you have there," amused Thor asked, "what are you? A young warrior in training?"

"A knight!" Henry thrust his sword upwards. "Is that what you are?"

"No, not exactly," Thor chuckled, "I remember when I was a boy, I wanted to be a Valkyrie defending the throne of Asgard." He winked at Henry, "until I realized they were all women."

Margery and William exchanged concerned looks wondering how much longer this 'Thor' character was going to carry this charade.

"What exactly is your relationship to my daughter?" asked William suddenly. He sized Thor up like any protective father would. Probably should have done that from the start before welcoming the man into his home.

Hermione unconsciously tugged her sleeve to cover the mark on her wrist. She couldn't even begin to explain to her parents what happened the last few years without alarming them let alone the 'life-debt' she owed Thor without making it sound like she was enslaved to him, except that was exactly how it was.

"I am her husband." He draped his arm across Hermione's waist possessively pulling her into him.

Hermione nearly choked on air. Her eyes widened at the lie, and she looked over her shoulder at Thor who only returned her confused expression with a doting smile.

Margery and William Granger were equally shocked. Margery pressed the back of her hand to her forehead feeling faint. "I think I need to sit down." William took Henry from Margery and set him down, so he could help his wife settle into the settee in the next room.

Hermione turned around to face Thor. "What are you doing?" she whispered harshly.

"Your parents do not believe that I am who I say I am. How are they going to understand what this is?" He gently reached for her wrist. "I believe they are waiting for us." He weaved his fingers into hers and followed the Grangers into the family room.

"How did you two meet?" asked William while Margery fanned herself while Henry played with his toys at her feet.

Thor sat down with Hermione's hand still encased in his larger one. She was pulled down next to him across from her parents. "I saved her from a witch hunt," Thor answered.

There was a moment of silence when Thor's words sunk in. Margery and William's worst fear did come true. They felt enormous guilt for not being able to protect their daughter. William held Margery's hand mirroring Hermione and Thor. "Then I cannot begin to even think of how I could ever repay you. Had we known, we would have provided a dowry."

"None is needed. I have what I want." Thor looked at Hermione. He took their entwined hands and brought it to his lips kissing hers.

An involuntary shiver travelled up Hermione's spine. She coughed clearing her throat. Embarrassed, she averted her gaze. She stole a glance at her parents who remained speechless.

In a way William Granger was relieved. He knew their daughter needed to be married. There was no other course of action for a woman in that day and age other than the nunnery because women could not inherit property, but Margery didn't share her husband's sentiment.

"Why did you not come back?" Margery asked. "And have your wedding here? We searched for you in Scotland."

"Well.." Hermione began. "I was actually-"

"The marriage was done in haste," said Thor, who was a terrible liar.

"Yes, we thought you wouldn't approve," added Hermione, who was not much better.

Margery eyed Thor and Hermione with scepticism. Both were swathed in luxurious and expensive garments clearly indicating that Thor came from a wealthy family. Thor was handsome and strong. He looked like he could give a person a concussion by accidentally bumping into them."Why would you think that?"

"Well because he's…um," Hermione tried to find something glaringly deficient about Thor but came up empty. He was everything a family could hope for, rich and powerful. That was all that mattered in a marriage. Marriage was for bettering one's social standing or securing political ties, not love.

They would have benefitted from taking five minutes to coordinate their lies because Thor decided to keep running with his. "We were madly in love. We could not wait and as all marriage ceremonies and revelries on Asgard goes, the celebration lasted many moons."

"And you didn't think to invite us? All that time? Your betrothed's parents?" Margery looked at Thor shrewdly, "I thought you said that the marriage was done in haste."

Thor scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "In essence, yes, but as soon as the ale and wine start flowing, the days….we just lose track of them. Asgardians love our celebrations. Battles, weddings, even funerals. When my grandfather Bor died I turned 983 and 984 during the same celebration," Thor rambled. He really did not understand why his brother enjoyed telling lies. It seemed very difficult to him. "Truthfully, I don't even remember the wedding. I was quite drunk," he laughed unconvincingly.

"It's been years. Several years. Surely your celebration did not just end now?" Margery said coldly, not believing a word ."Hermione, what are you not telling us?" Her attention shifted sharply to her daughter.

Hermione was still reeling from Thor's badly strung excuse. Watching Thor lie was like watching two quidditch players colliding mid-air on their brooms. "He really is Thor, the God of Thunder and...and fertility."

Her parents' silence said everything.

"Is it so hard to believe?" Thor asked lightly. "Your daughter is a witch after all."

William broke his silence. "You are telling me that you really are Thor, son of Woden, the pagan god of thunder?"

Thor let go of Hermione and stood. He flipped his hammer and laid it on its head on the small table in front of them. "This is Mjolnir, a hammer forged in the heart of a dying star. The inscription reads 'whosoever holds this hammer if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.'"

Margery blinked, confused by his explanation. "I suppose we would have to take your word for it since neither of us read Old Norse. But, how does that prove you are who you say you are?"

"Only I can lift it," Thor explained opening his arms, "I invite either of you to try."

Puzzled by the request, William attempted anyways, gripping the hand and pulling. It would not budge even a centimetre. He stood up and used both arms and still failed. "It must be a trick or it is simply too heavy."

"If it were too heavy, the table would have collapsed under its weight," said Hermione unhelpfully.

"Still don't believe me?" Thor shook his head laughing. Then his eyes turned white, electricity crackled between his fingers. That got everyone's attention including Henry. Thunder sounded in the distance as the previously clear day turned dark casting a shadow over the room. Everyone looked out at the window when the rain began to pour. Then it stopped as quickly as it started. Sunlight filtered into the window as Thor's eyes returned to his normal brilliant blue colour. "I control the skies," said Thor. "Do you believe me now?" He assumed his place next to Hermione again on the divan.

The Grangers were speechless. It was a lot to digest for them despite having a witch for a daughter. Witches were already deemed to be in league with the devil and heresy was punishable by death. Thor's existence flew in the face of both Catholicism and Protestantism that there was only one true God. Had Thor said he was an exceptionally powerful warlock, then it might have been easier for them to swallow, but Thor was arrogant and never let an opportunity to display his powers go unused nor a declaration of his title unsaid.

"What else can you do?" Henry piped up. He ambled his way over to Thor climbing onto his lap.

"Here, why don't I show you?" He picked up Henry as he stood up. "That way your sister can speak to your mother and father. Hmm?"

Henry giggled when Thor set him on his broad shoulders, not the least bit afraid of the height. "I shall be right outside," he reassured the Grangers. He picked up his hammer and carried Henry away.

Margery made a motion to intervene.

"Mother," Hermione raised her hand to stop her. "I trust him."

Henry did as well. He chattered nonsense happily into Thor's ear. Margery summoned Arabella and told her to follow them. The maid didn't seem to mind already taking a fancy toward Thor as did any non-blind person who had ever met the god.

When they were out of earshot, "Hermione, what is going on?" Margery asked with concern evident in her voice.

Hermione took a deep breath and started from the beginning. Everything she said was true except for the part about the bond. She admittedly appreciated Thor's foresight, which surprised her. Her parents while supportive knew little about her life as a witch. If there was any weakness in her relationship with her parents, that was it. Magic was hard to explain and comprehend to a muggle. And now they had a god to contend with as well.

William took Hermione's hand in his, "we're just happy you're safe. I can think of no better protection than the…" he glanced over to the large window where Henry was playing with Thor, "God of Thunder."

Hermione was hurt and relieved by her father's response. She wanted to say she could take care of herself, but so far had not proven that yet.

"I cannot believe it was Minerva McGonagall who did this to you," said Margery shaking her head. "She convinced us to let you attend Hogwarts. We trusted her…"

"I know. I did too." Hermione's weak smile belied the betrayal she still felt.

"We should have never let her go," William balled up his fists. "Your mother and I actually attended McGonagall's funeral."

"What?" Hermione was shocked. "You spoke with her?"

"No," said William. "When we were still in York, I was called to her nephew's house where she was staying. Apparently she had moved there a few years before right around the time of your disappearance. She had died in her sleep. I never got a chance to talk to her. If I had, I would have demanded her to help me find you."

"All this time she knew," Margery said bitterly. "And she was right under our noses."

Hermione was silent, still processing the news of her former professor's death. The curious circumstances surrounding it only raised more unanswerable questions. "Why would she move to York? Her home is in Scotland. Did you speak to her nephew?"

"Her family claimed to not know anything and at the time it seemed insensitive for us to press on. Then the King ordered us to move to Greenwich so that your father may be closer to him."

"My lord and madame," another servant interrupted, "Dinner will be served in the main hall."

"I'll go get Henry and Thor." Hermione excused herself.

_Earth Present Day_

With a little help from google maps, Thor and Jane somehow made it to Manhattan just as the city was collapsing. The National Guard was already there trying to get control of the chaos with marginal success. The city was under siege from the sky, so people were running to the underground.

Thor dropped Jane off on a quieter side street.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Stay here," Thor ordered. "It's dangerous. I'll get your uncle." He flew off to Stark Tower where it was guarded by flying leviathans.

Jane looked around her heart racing. She had to do something. People were running towards her screaming. Cars were stranded and being abandoned haphazardly. A blast from twenty feet away flipped a car setting off several alarms. Thor had left her in an active warzone. She ducked behind a vehicle to avoid the fallout. Jane took a deep breath and reminded herself this chaos was a reality a lot of people faced in countries embroiled in civil wars, she told herself. Amidst the noise her ears picked up the sound of a crying child. She looked around frantically for the source of the sound and saw a small boy. He looked to be around 10 or 11 years old huddled by a car ten feet away. She could tell that he was very scared and possibly injured, so she sprinted into action.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Jane ducked behind the car next to the boy.

"Peter," he said quietly. His leg was broken, and he couldn't move.

"Nice to meet you, Peter. I'm Dr Foster. I'm going to help you." Jane dug her hands into her coat pockets. She always carried random supplies. A roll of gauze, surgical tape, tongue depressors. She found a broken piece of pipe and strapped his leg to it tying it with everything she had that was sticky and ropelike in her pockets. "Peter. You're doing great. You're so brave," Jane was so high off of adrenaline that she had to keep talking otherwise she was going to burst into tears. She was so scared for the boy and for herself. Nothing in her decade long training as a physician had prepared her for this. "Do you know where your parents are?"

"I don't have parents." Tears were running down his face whether it was the reminder that he didn't have anyone or because he was in so much pain from his broken leg, he didn't even know.

That struck a chord with Jane. "But you must belong to someone."

"Aunt May," he said. "I don't know where she is."

"We'll find her," Jane gave him her best smile. "But first, let's get you out of here." Jane tried to pick him up, but he was just a little too heavy for her. She was only 5 '3 and 100 pounds soaking wet after all. She made a mental note to add weights into her imaginary fitness routine that she swore she would fit into her already impossible schedule after this nightmare was over.

"I can help."

Jane turned around and could hardly believe it. "Dr. Banner?" She hadn't seen her professor since he disappeared after his mysterious accident halfway through her term at medical school.

"Jane! What are you doing here?" he said just as shocked to see her as she was to see him, "there's no time, get on." He carefully lifted up Peter, setting him in front of him while Jane got behind him on his motorcycle. She held on for her life as Bruce kicked his motorcycle into gear weaving through the deserted cars and people heading for Grand Central Station.

Another blast hit the side of an apartment building. Huge chunks of concrete flew at them. Bruce swerved off course, but it was not enough. They were about to be squashed by the falling pieces when Tony and Rhodey flew in knocking the flying debris off course.

Tony's mask retracted. "Oh good, you're here. We could really use the other guy right now."

"Yeah, it's good to see you too Stark," Bruce greeted with familiarity.

"Iron Man!" Peter shouted. He tugged on Jane's sleeve pointing at Tony. His smile brightened his entire face and gave Jane a brief sense of comfort.

"Hey kiddo," Tony said in his friendliest hero voice. "What's your name?"

"Peter Parker!"

"I have to get these two to safety first," said Bruce as he dismounted from his bike.

"Cap can help with that. Speak of the devil," Tony saw Steve Rogers running towards them shield in hand leading a group of civilians chased by the Chitauri on foot. Above them, Clint and Natasha fired their weapons from a sniper's nest picking them with expert precision, but there were too many of them. Clint fired arrow after arrow detonating the ones in the back away from the civilians.

"Cover me!" Steve shouted. He swung his shield decapitating a Chitauri soldier.

"We're trying!" Natasha yelled into her comm. "There's too many of them!" She replaced her Glock in her holster and pulled out an automatic rifle and started raining down bullets.

A safe distance away Bruce turned to Jane, who was covering Peter's eyes, "I'm going to have to leave you here, but you're in good hands," he reassured her.

"Wha-" the words died on Jane's lips as she watched her former professor transform into a giant green monster. She hugged Peter close as they were eclipsed by his growing shadow. "Oh. My. God."

The Hulk took out the rest of the Chitauri before taking a great big leap towards the direction of the actual conflict smashing everything in his path.

"Ma'am, please follow me," Steve said. He took Peter into his arms and carried him. At the same time, he briefed Stark and Rhodey. "Strange and Wong are opening portals around the Sanctum. We need to divert the Chitauri over there, so they can send them back to where they belong."

"Copy that. See you later, kid," Tony Stark saluted and took off as Peter cheered.

Clint repelled down the building with Natasha holding onto him. "Looks like another unknown has entered the fray," he reported as he notched another arrow firing at a stray Chitauri.

They all looked up towards the sky and saw a billowing red cape flying toward the source of the portal.

"And he's enhanced," Natasha said. "What do we do?"

Jane knew who it was. "No! Don't hurt him! I think he's on your side."

"Someone should probably tell Danvers then," Clint said. He nodded to the flying human meteor hot on Thor's tail. "When did she get back?"

"I'm on it," Rhodey volunteered. He blasted off.

Steve stared at the gaping hole in the sky still haemorrhaging aliens. They were so outnumbered. It didn't even matter that some of their members were superhuman beings. "Someone still needs to go shut down whatever device is holding open that portal."

"We'll go," Natasha and Clint took off running after Rhodey. They leapt up onto cars and fallen debris until they were high enough to hijack a Chitauri flying jet ski leaving Jane and Peter alone with Steve.

"What are you guys?" Jane finally found her words. She looked at Steve with wonder and disbelief.

"We're the Avengers, ma'am," he nodded curtly. "We're here to save the day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woden - Odin's name in germanic. Lots of Germanic tribes also known as Anglo Saxons migrated to present-day Britain even before the Norman conquest.
> 
> Whew! That was a big chapter! Feels like it'll only get bigger when I introduce Harry and Co to the Avengers later. Let me know what you guys think in the comments!


	11. Heimdall's Story

  
  


_ Earth 16th Century _

Hermione found Thor and Henry outside reenacting an epic battle in which her little brother was winning. Thor play fighting with a five-year-old was a sight to behold. Henry whacked Thor’s legs with his wooden sword, and Thor proved to be quite the actor falling to his knees. “NOOOO!!!” he groaned his hands holding his side pretending to be mortally wounded as Henry stabbed him repeatedly with his sword. 

“DIE! DIE! DIE!” Henry ran circles around Thor screaming and shouting with glee. He boinked Thor in the head with his toy sword dealing the final blow. The boy was a natural-born killer. 

Thor faked collapsed onto the ground face down while Henry continued to cheer brandishing his sword in a show of victory. He chucked his weapon at Thor’s prone body before jumping up and down, while Thor pretended to be dead. That did not last long. Thor grabbed Henry picking himself along with the child. Henry kicked his legs screaming, “not fair! Not fair! I won! I won!” as Thor spun him around in the air. His protests soon turned to laughter as Thor hoisted him up over his head. “You are the victor!” Thor declared laughing heartily with Henry.

Hermione cleared her throat loud enough for them to hear. When she got their attention, she said, “dinner is almost ready. Mum wants you to wash up first.” She looked pointedly at Henry. It was strange to her gazing upon someone that shared her physical attributes, equal parts of both her parents. He had the same eyes and the same coloured hair. She had been an only child her entire life and this proved to be a strange adjustment. 

Henry pouted when Thor set him down. He looked over to where Mjolnir laid on the grass and tugged on Thor’s cape, “can we go flying again after dinner?”

Thor unable to suppress a smile brought a finger to his lips. “That was supposed to be our secret,” he half-whispered. When he glanced over at Hermione, she shot him a disapproving look.

“And you will keep it a secret,” Hermione bent down so she was eye level with her brother. “Mum will have a fit if she knew. Off you go, now.” 

Thor and Hermione watched Henry, who was an endless wellspring of energy, ran off in the direction of the manor.

Hermione turned to Thor, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Thor chuckled. He was thoroughly amused by the boy. “I was teaching him a game Loki and I played when we were younger called ‘get help,’ but it seemed that he only wanted to kill me.”

“Hmmm...Much like Loki,” Hermione observed. “Henry seems to like you. A lot more than me at least.”

“Are you jealous?” There was a hint of a smirk on Thor’s handsome face.

Hermione laughed, shaking her head feeling lighter after telling her parents what had happened. “Quite the opposite. I’m happy. I’m happy for my parents. Every family wants a son to inherit the estate and my father has built quite the estate.” She made a gesture at the house. “This is a far cry from where I grew up.”

“And you’re thinking that’s because you disappeared from their life?” Thor finished. He pulled her into an embrace knowing where her thoughts were going. He needed to stop it. “Be happy. They are alive and thriving. So are you. Don’t dwell on the reasons why.”

Hermione sighed leaning into him. His large frame warmed her and blocked the brisk wind. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“I’m listening.” Thor brushed the hair out of her face. The sun was setting and the wind picked up. They should probably head inside soon. 

She looked up at him with a soft smile gracing her young face. “Thank you.”

It was the first time Thor had ever seen her happy and more importantly the first time he ever felt happiness for anyone but himself. But he was still Thor, so he pressed his lips against hers stealing a kiss while her guard was down.

It ended and before Hermione could protest. Thor grinned wolfishly at her. “Your parents are waiting.” He took her hand to help her down the slope of the hill.

Unable to be mad at him, Hermione smiled to herself while Thor was not looking.

***

Thor and Hermione returned to Asgard the next morning promising her parents to visit again sooner rather than later. They stepped through the rainbow portal together. Thor steadied her with his hand while Hermione found her footing. Her eyes opened adjusting to the fading brightness.

“Welcome back, your majesty. Lady Hermione,” Heimdall nodded. “The King and Queen are waiting for you in the throne room.”

“Alright,” Thor said, taking Hermione’s hand. A habit he had developed recently.

“They want to see you alone,” Heimdall added. He silently noted the intimate way the two interacted. Their time on Earth appeared to be well warranted at least Heimdall could report that as good news to the King and Queen.

“I was going to escort Hermione back to her room. It's a long walk on the bridge.”

“That is alright. I can manage myself,” Hermione assured Thor letting go of his hand the tips of her fingers lingered a bit touching his, which Thor noticed as did Heimdall. “I’m a witch, remember? I rather not fly through the air again if that could be helped.”

“It is urgent, your majesty,” Heimdall said.

“I actually want to speak to Heimdall as well,” she glanced between the two gods. 

“Very well,” Thor took Hermione’s hand pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Until we meet again.” He winked backing away because he quite liked seeing her flushed with embarrassment at the small gesture performed in front of Heimdall. He spun his hammer and it pulled him into the opening leading to Asgard.

“How may I be of service to you, my Lady Hermione?”

Hermione nervously tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know I have no right to ask this of you...” she started.

“Prince Thor has already asked me to watch over your parents. If anything were to threaten them I would notify him immediately so he could,” Heimdall paused, “rectify the situation.”

“Oh.” Hermione wondered if legilimency was another one of Heimdall’s gifts. It would seem appropriate given how violating his other gifts were. She told herself to stop thinking that just in case. “That’s...that’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“You need not thank me,” said Heimdall. “I do as I am ordered.” He possessed enough tact to not say that two mortal lives were trivial in the grand scheme of the universe.

“Well, thank you, nonetheless,” Hermione curtsied. She was about to leave, but then she asked because her curiosity got the better of her. “So you can really see everything in the universe?”

“Aye.”

“Isn’t that overwhelming?” She imagined billions of images assaulting Heimdall at all times.

“No.” It was clear that Heimdall wanted to get back to his watch. He had better things to do than explain his sight to a mortal. It wasn’t something a lesser being would be able to comprehend nor should they concern themselves with therefore not worth an explanation.

“All the things you must see…” Hermione mused idly. “Things that you cannot unsee…”

“Is there something _ else _ I can assist you with, Lady Hermione?” Heimdall repeated, his patience unwavering. 

“Do you know where Prince Loki is?”

Heimdall’s eyes narrowed. Loki had been proving to be more elusive as of late. He was used to the prince’s trickery. Ever since Loki could walk and talk, he had been evading Heimdall like a prolonged game of hide and seek. If there was one being in the universe that could escape Heimdall’s sight, it was Loki. “I don’t keep track of the younger prince’s whereabouts. As a member of the royal family, he is free to come and go as he pleases.” What was left unsaid was that neither he nor Odin could stop Loki from leaving. 

“Does he do that a lot? Leave Asgard?” Hermione picked at her dress as if she were not invested in the conversation.

“He won’t be back sometime if that was what you were wondering.” Loki disappeared sometimes months at a time and until that affair with the giantess, his mischief normally did not warrant any intervention, which would have to come from Odin himself. 

Hermione was actually wondering if Heimdall had seen how Loki treated her. It was humiliating, and she loathed the prince. “I’m not afraid of him.”

“That was not what I was implying, though if you want him to respect you try beating him at his own game.” Heimdall’s eyes glimmered.

“Right,” she couldn’t really discern whether or not Heimdall was actually encouraging her bully and harass Loki as he had done to her. “Thank you again,” she curtsied again before apparating back to the palace.

***

“Where have you been?” It was a rhetorical question because Heimdall had already informed Odin of Thor’s whereabouts beforehand. “Are you done gallivanting on Midgard?” Odin chastised Thor from the top of the stairs where he sat upon his golden seat. To him, Thor will always be a boy,  _ a vain, greedy, and cruel boy, _ that will one day ascend to the throne. __

“I apologize, father,” though Thor sounded anything but apologetic. He couldn’t wait to be King so he wouldn’t have to take orders from Odin anymore. “I’m sorry, mother. For taking Hermione away from you these last few days.” 

“It’s alright. Heimdall told us what you were trying to do for her.” Frigga stepped away from the throne descending the stairs to meet her son. “Right now we have more pressing matters.”

“Frigga,” Odin warned.

“He needs to know,” she turned her head to her husband. “It’s time he knows.” She was well aware of the fact that this may be her son’s defining moment as a leader and ruler in how he weathered through Ragnarok.

“What is it?” Thor straightened up, alarmed that Asgard might be in danger when he realized that he had not just been summoned for a lecture.

“You know of Ragnarok,” spoke Frigga.

Thor’s expression darkened grimly. “Aye, it is the Twilight of the Gods. An unbreakable cycle of fiery doom and rebirth.”

“We may have a way to prevent it,” said Odin. “This time.”

“Tell me how,” Thor demanded, ready to face whatever threat he needed to protect his family and Asgard.

“You must not speak of this to anyone outside this room,” warned Frigga.

“You have my word.” He gripped his hammer tightly. “Just tell me.”

“Please. Cool your heels,” Odin said watching Thor pace. “This is a delicate task involving espionage and kidnapping not charging into battle and killing everyone in sight. I need you to focus.”

Confused Thor stopped his pacing. “Then wouldn’t Loki be more suited for this?”

“I’m afraid it has to do with Loki.”

“What?” Thor’s confusion turned into an emotion that was foreign to the prince; concern. “What has he done?”

Odin carefully relayed the tale of Loki’s children omitting the prophecy involving Hermione to Thor.

A green fly that had been sitting on the wall unnoticed squeezed through a crack escaping through the closed double doors of the throne room. Loki was incensed at the revelation and what they were planning to do with his children. He needed to act fast. But no sooner had he flown past the guarded locked doors into the dark, empty corridor, he was sucked into a swirling vortex. 

It was a clever but tricky bit of magic on Hermione’s part. Not just the unbreakable spell on the jar that now imprisoned Loki or the vacuum she created in the jar to suck him in, but a modified stasis charm to keep him as a fly. Still hidden from sight behind one of the grand columns, she tightened the lid sealing it with her magic. She held up the glass to her face. Illuminated by the soft torchlight, Loki flitted his glittering emerald wings around hitting the sides of the glass unable to transform. The more he tried the angrier he became. The hall was quiet enough for the soft clinking sound from Loki colliding with glass to reach Hermione’s ears. 

“Hello, your highness.” Hermione smiled, never one to forget her manners.

_ Earth Present Day  _

According to Loki, this whole invasion was all just a huge misunderstanding. The Avengers plus Thor were about to crucify him for his supposed involvement in the attack on New York, but then Heimdall stepped in. Thor was surprised that either of them was alive. Heimdall, of course, wasn’t, and he needed to fill Thor in on what had happened since Ragnarok; but first, they had to clean up the mess on Earth because regardless of their intentions, which were arguably good from the start, it was still their fault.

Thor delivered Erik Selvig to Jane as promised. He was completely nude except for the shoes and socks he still wore, but unharmed now that he had been sedated.

“Thank you again,” Jane said as Selvig was strapped and handcuffed to a stretcher still blathering nonsensical things as he drifted off. “I hope you find your wife,” she gave him a small smile. Her hand came to rest on his arm briefly. It was a habit, a small gesture she used to comfort her patients and their loved ones. 

Thor was silent as he watched Jane climb into the back of the ambulance that held both Peter Parker and Erik Selvig. 

“My King,” Heimdall interrupted Thor’s brief reverie. He wore a hooded cloak obscuring his face. Gone was his sword and in his hand was a staff. His manner of dress stood out starkly even n the presence of Thor and among all the chaos and destruction of their current surroundings.

“Heimdall!” Thor recognized Heimdall’s voice instantly.

Heimdall knelt down. He only ever kneeled for the King. “Your majesty.” 

“Stand,” Thor commanded. “I’m no longer King.”

Heimdall cut to the chase. “We have much to discuss, but first,” he stood up. “We need to deal with this present situation.” He nodded over to where Loki stood, chained and muzzled.

Thor pushed past a throng of people surrounding his brother. “Can you remove that? I need to speak to my brother.”

“He’s ours now,” Carol said folding her arms. She stood next to Loki as a security measure. “We’re taking him in. He will go on trial for what he’s done.” She looked as if nothing Thor could say would change her mind.

“Wherever you take him, allow me to go with you,” Thor said in a tone that sounded very much like an order.

“Suit yourself. He’s going to prison for a very long time.” As she said that a van approached and unloaded a whole team of SHIELD agents dispatched to take Loki into their custody.

Thor actually laughed, “we Asgardians live for thousands of years. Your world would perish long before he even finishes his sentence.”

“That’s what you are?” Captain Marvel peered at him with faint scepticism. She had encountered all manners of alien lifeform being a Kree hybrid herself including a beautiful, brooding, booze-loving ex Valkyrie from Sakaar. She realized then that depending on how the day goes, they could either gain a useful ally or a very dangerous enemy. “We need to talk.”

Thor and Heimdall agreed without fuss, and they were transported to the most secured SHIELD base, a helicarrier thousands of feet in the air. They were allowed in during the questioning because well, no one could stop them.

The SHIELD personnel marched Loki into his temporary prison. They put him in a transparent circular chamber strapping him to a chair in the centre. It was interrogation time. Only a select few were present. Thor, Heimdall, Tony Stark, Carol Danvers, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, and Dr Stephen Strange.

“You try anything, and we’re dropping your ass,” Carol pressed a button on the console. The floor beneath the suspended chamber holding Loki opened into the sky drowning the entire chamber with the sound of the wind.

“If that doesn’t kill you, I’ll just send you to a dimension where you will fall for eternity,” Dr Strange casually warned.

Heimdall walked up to the glass door that separated him and Loki tapping it with his staff. “Let me in,” he said.

Carol gave him a puzzled look.

“If Loki is guilty, then I am also in the wrong. I asked him to do this,” Heimdall confessed.

“What?” Disbelief was evident on Thor’s face. He couldn’t believe Loki would ever convince Heimdall to join in his schemes.

“Fine, your funeral,” Carol opened the door to the chamber and escorted Heimdall inside. He stood next to Loki as Carol removed the muzzle. 

“Finally!” Loki spat. “How dare you treat me this way! I’m a prince of Asgard! Have you never heard of diplomatic immunity or is your backwater planet as lawless as your savage unevolved inhabitants,” he snarled.

“We don’t take kindly to those who invade our planet. You forfeit your rights when you unleashed your alien terror upon us,” Strange said dryly.

“I wasn’t trying to invade your pathetic planet,” Loki shot back. “Asgard has no association with the Chitauri.”

“He’s right,” Heimdall said. “We didn’t mean to attack your planet. We were actually trying to leave it.”

“Then what the fuck were you doing? You stole the tesseract from one of SHIELD’s high-security vaults,” Clint accused. His words directed more at Loki than Heimdall. He didn’t trust the trickster god. Also, he was only present as the representative of SHIELD, and he needed answers. 

“Stole?” Loki looked affronted. He could not believe any of them had the audacity to charge him with a crime he didn’t commit… on purpose. “The tesseract belongs to us. Odin buried it here before any of you were even alive. We needed it back so we could open a portal to transport us back to Asgard.” 

“You also kidnapped one of our scientists,” Clint continued his indictment, “and killed one of our best agents.”

“That was in self-defence,” Loki said, not looking the least bit repentant. “He fired a weapon at me.”

“Cause you were stealing from us,” Clint maintained.

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, “not stealing” he grounded out, “taking back what is ours.”

“We didn’t kidnap Selvig,” Heimdall interrupted. “He actually found us and volunteered to help. He was…” Heimdall paused not wanting to be impolite, “eccentric.”

“He was mad and perhaps deranged but overall very eager to help us. We were in no position to refuse,” Loki said innocently.

“He just wanted to see the Bifrost,” Heimdall added almost amicably. “Of course we also needed the tesseract to rebuild the Bifrost so we could resettle our people.”

“What is left of Asgard? It was destroyed during Ragnarok,” said Thor. The battle and the end of times felt like yesterday to him.

“Ragnarok?” Bruce’s brow furrowed. The only genius in the room without a complex. “I thought that was a myth. A Norse legend.” 

“Well less than twenty-four hours ago we also thought Aliens versus Predator was just a bad movie,” said Tony. “How wrong were we?”

Carol shrugged, crossing her arms, “I knew there were aliens.”

“That’s because you’re half-alien and you spend all your time travelling to different galaxies visiting other aliens,” Tony retorted.

“Some of us like to use our powers for good,” Carol said loftily.

“Are you always this self-righteous?”

“Are you always this intolerable?”

“I’m sorry,” Tony puffed up his chest like a surly bird. “Who just carried a nuke into a wormhole filled with a hostile alien army saving an entire city of eight million people?” he reminded haughtily. “I almost died.”

“Huh,” Carol paused, turning to face Tony. “I could have sworn I saw the letters that spelled STARK on the side of said missile when I was flying up to assist you,” Carol rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Ugh, you’re worse than Fury…”

“Excuse me?” Carol raised a single eyebrow, “Fury was the one who called me. What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up.”

“We had it under control,” Tony asserted.

“I was the one who shut off the tesseract,” Carol’s expression remained impassive which only further irritated Tony. “No one else could touch it.”

“I could, but I didn’t want to,” Loki quipped. “Thor probably could have helped too.”

“Shut up!”

“No one asked you!”

Both Carol and Tony sent death glares in Loki’s direction.

“This isn’t a contest!” Bruce intervened trying to mediate. He was starting to believe that the success of their first mission was a fluke or something. “A team full of superheroes with too many strong personalities, they were a ticking time bomb. We’re supposed to be a team,” he muttered.

Stark and Danvers ignored him and continued to bicker back and forth, but it was obvious that was the only way they knew how to converse with each other.

“What happened after Ragnarok?” Thor asked turning his attention back to Heimdall and Loki. “What happened to Asgard?’

“Asgard has been reborn,” Heimdall said. “I have seen it. That is why I asked Loki to find the tesseract.”

“But how?” Thor asked in disbelief. “This was a disaster. People have died because of your actions. Innocent people.”

“And where were you?” Loki glared at Thor thinking how hypocritical his brother was. Thor’s death count was somewhere north of three thousand. Twice as much as he had been alive. “Some of us have been here for centuries. I’m just trying to get us home. How was I supposed to know that opening a portal would let in another alien race hell-bent on destroying everything? I can’t see into the future, I’m not a witch, you know,” Loki paused. “Speaking of witches, where is Hermione?”

Thor tensed. “I do not know. I was hoping you two could help me find her.” He looked over to Heimdall, who said nothing.

“We’re getting off-topic here,” Clint chimed in.

“Wait,” Thor said ignoring Clint, “where are the others?”

“Tonsberg, Norway,” Heimdall answered. “We were in Broxton, Oklahoma for a while, but as more were found we moved. We have ties to Norway. It was where the tesseract was buried. They’re all there and waiting to go home.”

“Including Mother and Father,” Loki added. 

“No, they’re not all there if Hermione hasn’t been found,” Thor asserted.

“Hermione isn’t one of us,” Loki reminded his brother.

“No, she’s better than us,” Thor shot back.

Loki sighed. His brother fell in love so easily. “She’s human. She’s mortal. She belongs here. Tell him Heimdall.”

“How did you find everyone, Heimdall?” Thor asked. “Did you use your sight? Have you not seen Hermione after all this time?” It was then that Thor noticed Heimdall’s face had been obscured by the hood of his cloak the entire time.

Heimdall shifted leaning onto his staff.

“Heimdall,” Thor repeated, “where’s your sword. What happened?” 

Heimdall lifted his head and removed the cloak revealing his eyes. Gone were the golden irises. He was blind. “Allow me to start from the beginning. The beginning of the end.”

_ Heimdall limped along blood dripping on the snow-covered courtyard where the fossilized Yggastril tree stood. The snow blanketed the ground overnight as if priming Asgard for the invasion of the Frost Giants. They were supposed to have more of a warning. The long winter that Volla had prophesied had materialized one evening, and so did their enemies.  _

_ Ice had covered the entire palace. Thor had destroyed the Bifrost already in an attempt to stop the invasion. But the Frost Giants had kept coming seemingly from secret passageways not even Heimdall knew about. They had trapped themselves ultimately dooming their people to a siege and slaughter. _

_ His breathing laboured, Heimdall leaned heavily against his sword for support. It was just a sword now without the Bifrost. He had failed his people. He had sounded  _ _ Gjallarhorn too late, and soon he will die from his wounds and join them in Valhalla. Standing by himself in an icy wasteland littered with bodies of his fallen nation, a single tear escaped his watchful eyes. Ten feet away laid his King and Queen. They faced each other, hands clasped. Heimdall fell to his knees taking a moment to mourn. Their reign had been cut tragically short. _

_ “Last one standing,” Hela’s tone was equally patronizing and menacing. _

_ Heimdall gripped his sword rallying himself to stand. Knowing his fate was sealed, he had refused to face his executioner. _

_ “Fenris, are you still hungry?” Hela asked, stroking the flank of the massive wolf. _

_ Having already devoured numerous victims on the battlefield, he growled, baring his fangs, “I could eat. I like my prey alive. Their hearts beating, blood gushing. It makes eating them all the more enjoyable when they squirm in my mouth screaming and begging for mercy.”  _

_ “Go on then,” Hela prompted, “Asgard is ours now.” _

_ Heimdall laughed his shoulders shaking visibly while his back was still turned. “What could you possibly want with Asgard now that it is dead? It is a frozen wasteland. You have no subjects to rule over.” _

_ “I think you’re forgetting what I am, my dear sentry,” Hela sighed in annoyance, “I am the Goddess of Death. It does not matter if my subjects are dead or alive.” She conjured up a brilliant green flame and struck the floor with it. It had rippled like a stone in a pond animating the corpses except for Hermione’s and Thor’s. With the Frost Giants disposed of now that they had served their purpose, Hela had single-handedly created an army of the undead from the remains of Asgardians. _

_ “Now it is your turn to die,” Hela was gleeful in her pronouncement, “Fenris.” _

_ Hela had not even finished her command when Fenris took off running toward his next meal. _

_ Heimdall's eyes never left the royal couple. His back tensed bracing for the blow that didn’t come. _

_ A flash had blinded everyone. Fenris whined closing his eyes, skidding to a halt. Heimdall had thought it came from the sky, but as the light faded he saw Hermione’s body in flames. It had burned just as bright until her body had vaporized as a new form emerged. Its wings spanned the length of Fenris' body made of pure fire burning everything around it.  _

“Wait,” Carol interrupted. “This bird made out of fire. I’ve seen it before flying around in space. I didn’t realize it was sentient. I thought it was a solar flare at first.”

“You saw it?” Loki’s eyes narrowed honing them on Carol, “where?” He caught Thor staring at him out of the corner of his eye. His brother’s expression was unreadable.

“Torfa,” Carol answered. 

“Where the fuck is th-” 

“I believe this creature you speak of is called a phoenix,” said Strange before Carol could clarify. “The Egyptians have worshipped it for thousands of years.”

“That was where I woke up. In Egypt. Centuries ago,” said Heimdall. “Just as Ragnarok exists as an eternal cycle, so does the Phoenix. It dies and then it is reborn. It is the reason why we’re here. It sent us to its home.”

“What happened to Hela?” Thor demanded. She got past him. He let that happen. He let her destroy Asgard and everything and everyone he loved. __

_ Hela and Fenris had screamed as they melted with the snow. The flames consumed everything even the undead causing them to suffer a second death. But for a reason Heimdall could not articulate at that moment, he was spared. As Asgard burned, the creature spoke to Heimdall, not with words, but telepathic images of its home faraway on Midgard, the future, and the many faces of the humans the deceased Asgardians were reborn as. And Heimdall had understood his task in perfect clarity, he was to search and awaken each soul and bring them back to Asgard when it was reborn from the ashes of the Phoenix’s flame.  _

“That is where we are now,” Heimdall explained. “My sight has been altered to see not the person, but who that one has been. Before you arrived, I dreamt of Asgard. The Phoenix has left, and Asgard has been restored. Our people are ready to make the journey back. Everyone except for a select few including you, me, Loki, the Odin and Frigga were reborn as humans, and I have found every last one over the course of a couple of centuries. As their consciousness came to, they became avail to my sight and I was able to find them and free them from their human bodies.” 

“Cool story, but we still can’t let you guys go free,” said Tony interrupting Heimdall’s reverie. “Not after everything you’ve done.”

“You would rather us stay here? There’s not a prison strong enough to hold us.” To demonstrate Loki broke out of his chains without flinching.

Everyone groaned knowing Loki had just been toying with them when he complied peacefully with his arrest.

“Loki’s right,” it physically pained Carol to admit that not that she would show it. “You need to get off our planet.”

“That’s easy,” Bruce turned to Strange, “can’t you just open a portal to Asgard and let them through?”

“This may surprise you, but our sorcery is also bound by the laws of physics,” Strange never passed up an opportunity to explain things in a condescending manner. “We mostly use our sling rings to travel on earth or other dimensions and planes of existence overlapping earth, not actual space. Especially not to a planet millions of light-years away.”

The confusion evident on his face, Bruce followed up with, “then where did you send the Chitauri?”

“You don’t want to know,” Strange said haughtily. That conversation ended like that with Bruce still confused but disturbed.

“I can build you a ship,” Tony offered, still stinging from Captain Marvel’s insinuations. He wasn’t just a billionaire playboy genius arms dealer. He was a philanthropist too. “A ship big enough to house a small nation.”

Carol knew where he was going with this and not to be outdone she offered something even better. “Mar-vell’s research is still classified, but I’m sure I can pull some strings. This is an emergency that threatens our entire planet after all. We can build you a Light-Speed Engine with the help of the tesseract to get you home.”

“I’m sure there’s a catch,” Loki said dryly.

“You become our ally,” Strange said. “When we need you, you will come to our aide.”

“I can’t believe you have the audacity to even ask that,” Loki scoffed indignantly. “I never  _ ever  _ want to come back here.”

“Fair enough, your planet has provided our people with refuge,” Heimdall agreed to Strange’s proposal ignoring Loki’s protest. “What say you, my King?” 

“I’m not leaving without Hermione,” was Thor's answer.

Heimdall sighed feeling more exhausted than he has in centuries. “I have not felt her consciousness. I only recently felt yours when you awoke in New Mexico. I have found every last Asgardian over the centuries, but I have not found her.”

“I’m sorry, who is Hermione?” Bruce asked.

“She’s my wife,” Thor answered.   
  


“She saved us all,” Heimdall said. “And I have searched for her with little success.”

Thor started pacing frustration building in his body, “then we wait. And we keep searching.”

“Again, some of us have been here for centuries,” Loki reminded unkindly.

“I may be one of the greatest engineering minds of this century, but the ship isn’t going to build itself right this instant,” Tony cut in.

“How long is this going to take?” Loki’s patience for being on this planet waned every second.

“Well, it took nearly a decade and two American presidents to get us to the moon, so…” Tony squinted his eyes and tilted his head, “I think I could get you on your way to Asgard in half that time. I have an army of super smart AI robots.” He turned to Carol, “and if the captain here agrees to help, maybe even sooner.”

“Time isn’t really an issue for us,” said Heimdall.

“Fine. Build the ship,” Thor stormed over the control panel and pounded the same button Carol had pressed nearly breaking the whole console. “In the meantime, I’m going to go find my wife,” he jumped into the opening at the bottom of the ship, Mjolnir spinning in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Some clarification. In the comics, Thor manages to end the cycle of Ragnarok. Asgard is destroyed and his people are reborn as humans on Earth. It is Thor/Donald Blake that goes to awaken his people and set up the new Asgard in Broxton, Oklahoma. I changed it to Heimdall being the one tasked to find everyone. I also changed Broxton to Tonsberg to keep it consistent with MCU canon. 
> 
> The phoenix is a twist I added. I took some lore from HP and some stuff from the very disappointing X-Men Dark Phoenix movie. Something about the Dark Phoenix saga is cursed for adaptation. Maybe the third time's the charm? 


	12. Poisoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: References Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology Chapter Loki’s children and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Chapter 19 Elf Tails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went ahead and updated the rating for future chapters. It's mostly for sexual content and some violence.

Thor gripped the edges of the table holding all the maps and detailed plans of the extraction. The fortified Asgardian wood cracked and splintered under the pressure. “When do we tell Loki?” That weighed heavily on his mind. The two brothers were close once. They drifted apart as their dissimilar interests took them on separate paths. But they were brothers nonetheless. Deception was Loki’s game, not Thor’s.

“We will tell him in time,” Frigga tried to comfort Thor, but there was a moment in every mother’s life when she had to accept her son was no longer a boy and as such did not welcome her reassurance.

“No harm will come to his children?” Thor scanned the maps. This was unlike any mission he had ever attempted. It was entirely too personal and felt too much like betrayal. Thor was arrogant, headstrong, aggressive, and not the most rational, but he was not heartless. 

“No harm will come to them,” Frigga repeated. “We only want to remove them from Jotunnheim, so they cannot be used against us.”

Odin clasped his hands behind him as he paced slowly and deliberately. “The serpent will be set free in the oceans of Midgard where he may thrive. Midgard is the farthest of the nine realms, and its oceans are vast. The wolf will come here,” Odin decided.

“And live with us,” Frigga finished.

“Why can we not tell Loki now?” demanded Thor. It was not lost on anyone that they were lying to the greatest liar the Nine Realms had ever seen. “He will find out sooner or later... He’s the cleverer one between the two of us.”

No one in the room disagreed with that.

“We-”

Frigga cleared her throat.

“I think,” Odin corrected, “if Loki knew of the prophecy and the role he plays in it then it may create an impossible rift between us and him. He does not need that.” The king thought Loki’s relationship with them was fragile enough.

“He does not need these lies, either,” Thor argued.

“I am trying to protect him, Thor.” Odin raised his voice against his son’s. “This puts him in a very difficult position. He cannot objectively decide what is best.”

Thor’s hand came down on the table in a loud bang causing Frigga to flinch.“He should decide. These are his children!” The bounds of Thor’s control were being tested. Up until this point, Thor had followed his father’s orders without question.

“And you and Loki are mine!” Odin shouted.

“As King and Queen of Asgard, we decided to act in order to save our people,” Frigga said in perfect calmness. “But as your mother and father, we decided to spare the serpent and the cub. Please, Thor,” Frigga pleaded. She touched his face as she had done millions of times before.

Thor angled away from his mother missing her hurt reaction. He remained unsettled torn between duty to his people and loyalty to his family. 

“I can tell by your anger that you must think ill of me,” Odin asserted. He rather his son hate him than risk everything and see Asgard overtaken by their enemies.

Thor tensed, “I think the world of you, father.” 

“These seemingly impossible decisions will be far more numerous than you can imagine when you take my place,” Odin continued. “But the difficult choices you make. This is what makes you a King.”

“Then perhaps, the throne suits me ill.” Thor threw open the large double doors intent on finding Loki.

_ Present Day Earth _

“No more than six visitors at a time. I won’t say it again,” Poppy Pomfrey warned. Crowded around Ron’s bed in the hospital wing were Arthur, Molly, Ginny, George, Fred, Harry, Hagrid, and Hermione.

Hagrid left first mumbling something about Aragog being sick. It seemed like everyone was dying these days.

Molly gently dabbed Ron’s forehead with a damp flannel. It was obvious that she was still shaken up at the whole ordeal. 

Arthur tried to comfort her whispering reassuring words, while the twins and Ginny argued who the perpetrator was. So far no one had the faintest idea on how Professor Slughorn came to possess a bottle full of poisoned mead.

“Could someone be targeting the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Like Hagrid had said, first Katie, and now Ron?” Fred said. “You might be next, Ginny.”

Molly slapped Fred with the flannel. “Merlin, don’t say that!”

“What, mum? It’s a real possibility. We need to be on guard for any foul play.” George was surprisingly serious. 

“I don’t think this person was intentionally targeting Quidditch players,” Hermione said.

“Interesting. You think one person is behind all of this?” said Fred. “Do tell.”

“There’s a pattern. I think the attacks are connected. Both were meant to be fatal, but neither of the items, the cursed necklace or the laced mead actually made it to their intended victim. And that’s just pure luck. I don’t think whoever it is will stop either until their target is killed.”

“Six people!” Pomfrey interrupted. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,” she counted. “There are seven of you. Seven! One of you has to leave.” She stared at them, but no one moved. “Now.”

“I’ll go,” Hermione volunteered. 

“Er-my-nee,” Ron croaked weakly. His eyes were closed, and he had sweated through his clothes, but Madame Pomfrey said it was a good sign. It meant his body was purging the rest of the poison. 

The Weasleys’ reactions were mixed, but none were surprised that Ron said Hermione’s name out loud in his unconscious state. George slipped Fred, who wore a self-satisfied grin, a few galleons muttering a few choice words. Molly and Arthur exchanged knowing glances, and Ginny simply smiled at Hermione.

Hermione blushed and excused herself. Smiling to herself she left the Weasley clan to fuss over Ron and discuss various conspiracy theories behind the poisoning.

Harry got up as well and caught up with Hermione outside the hospital wing. “Still mad?” he asked.

The memory of the fight she had with Harry in the Gryffindor Common Room was weeks ago yet the hurt was still there. Hermione Granger didn’t have many friends. With one nearly dead and another one not on speaking terms because of a pretty epic row, she was feeling a little lonely. “No, just hurt.” She crossed her arms over her chest withdrawing into herself.

“Look, Hermione,” Harry ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I should not have lashed out at you like that.” 

Hermione turned on him, “no, you shouldn’t have. I have only ever stood by you.” They didn’t fight, ever.

“I said I was sorry.” It came out more forcefully than Harry intended.

“Well, it feels a bit empty,” Hermione bit back. “Did you turn in your precious book?”

“That book saved Ron’s life.”

“So that’s a no, then? If you had paid attention to Snape during our first year, you would remember that bezoars were covered in our very first potions lesson,” Hermione scolded.

“How would I have remembered that?” Harry threw up his hands. “I don’t have your enormous brain.”

“And I’m sure Slughorn would have eventually come to his senses and done something… He’s a potions master. I’m sure he would have come up with an antidote in time.” Hermione sometimes misplaced her confidence in authority figures, particularly teachers.

“When have the teachers here ever stopped us from getting hurt?”

That gave Hermione pause as she thought about every single time they were nearly killed on Hogwarts’ premises.“I suppose you have a point there,” Hermione admitted begrudgingly. “But you still need to get rid of that book.”

“I will, Hermione.” He shifted onto his other foot rubbing the back of his neck. “After I get the memory,” he added quickly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, throwing up her hands. “You’re impossible.” She looked over Harry’s shoulder and saw Arthur and Molly Weasley exiting the hospital wing. “I’m going back to check up on Ron,” she said, walking away without a second glance. She bid goodnight to the Weasleys before disappearing through the double doors.

“Harry!” Molly exclaimed. “Come here.” The Weasley matriarch hugged Harry showering him with kisses. She held his face affectionately. “First you saved Ginny, then Arthur, and now Ron. Oh! How could we ever repay you?”

Harry felt a tinge of guilt. They were all put in harm’s way because of him. “It’s luck, I guess. I’m always there at the right place and at the right time.” Mostly because they were traps purposely designed to lure him in courtesy of Voldemort.

Arthur clapped his hand on Harry’s back. “We love you, Harry. I feel like we don’t say that enough.” 

Except they do. They welcomed him into their home despite doing so made them dangerous enemies. Harry had never felt anything other than acceptance and love from them, something that he sorely lacked growing up with the Dursleys. That only made Harry feel even more guilty. In a way, before he knew about Sirius, the Weasleys were his foster family. They took him under their wing and guided him through the new and strange world that was Wizarding Britain. Now they were in a war now, and he had to think about how to keep them safe. It seemed that anyone associated with Harry inevitably fell victim to an attack, and he cannot let that keep happening. “I’ve always felt more indebted to you both,” confessed Harry, “I’m not sure how I would have survived living at the Dursleys for so long if you didn’t bail me out every summer and every holiday.” 

Arthur gripped Harry’s shoulder in a half hug.“You’ll always be a part of our family. Molly and I will be staying here with everything that has been going on. You let us know if you ever need anything, yea?”

Harry smiled sheepishly at the family that unofficially adopted him. “I know.”

“Good night, Harry,” Arthur bid him farewell and Molly gave him one last squeeze then had one more thing she wanted. “Why don’t we have breakfast tomorrow morning in the Great Hall? We would love to chat with you, Harry.” She placed a hand on Harry’s cheek, “are you eating? You look skinnier every time I see you,” she frowned.

Harry smiled and agreed to breakfast then got one last hug from Molly.

It was just as well that they left because coming down the corridor with a determined look on her face was Lavender Brown. 

“Oh, Harry! How is he?” She clutched at her chest, tears brimming in her eyes.

“He’s fine, Lavender,” Harry assured her. “He’s resting now.”

“Is _she_ in there?” She puffed up like a hostile bird warning other potential suitors away.

“Uh, yes? By she, I assume you mean Hermione. They are friends, you know.”

Lavender screamed in frustration, “she’s been ignoring him for weeks now she suddenly finds him interesting!”

“Well, he was poisoned,” Harry reminded her, peering at her with narrow eyes wondering what was wrong with this person. “I hardly think that makes him interesting, just almost dead.”

She huffed indignantly, “I’m going in there!” Lavender stormed past Harry.

“Wait,” Harry walked backwards keeping in step with Lavender thinking he should be a friend for once and help the two most important people in his life out. He stepped in front of her blocking her path. “There are already six people in there and you don’t want to get on Madam Pomfrey’s bad side,” Harry lied. It was just Hermione, Ginny, and the twins now.

“But…” Lavender protested.

“Just come back tomorrow. He’s had a long day. And you look like you need some rest,” Harry feigned concern and hoped it carried in his voice. “I’ll tell him you were here,” he said, intending to keep that promise by whispering it to Ron while he sleeps off the poison. “Here, why don’t I walk you back?” he offered.

“Okay,” Lavender grumbled.

They walked in complete silence all the way back to the Gryffindor common room. Lavender mumbled a ‘goodnight’ and headed up the dormitory she shared with Hermione, who was definitely not there.

“Potter.”

Harry groaned inwardly. “What do you want, McLaggen?”

“I heard about what happened to Weasley. Sorry about that, mate.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “What are you doing about the upcoming Quidditch match?” Cormac certainly didn’t beat around the bush. “Because I have some plays I wanted to run by you,” he said as if he were already a part of the team.

Harry exhaled a long-suffering sigh. On top of everything that had gone on with one of his best friends being poisoned, still not having the memory, he also needed to find a new keeper for the game this weekend. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

~*~

_ Asgard Pre-Ragnarok _

Lucky for Odin Loki was nowhere to be found thanks to Hermione. It did not take her long to figure out how Loki spied on others unnoticed while the greatest spy of all, Heimdall, watched every person’s move. That morning when she was leaving Thor’s room, Loki revealed his astral projections to her, which she guessed allowed him to be in multiple places at a time. It was a perfect way to distract Heimdall or trick him into thinking he was somewhere else while he transformed his physical body into something or someone else. It was truly clever and impressive.

Loki was right about her. She was an opportunist. Hermione still had not devised a way to release him while still safeguarding herself. She expected Loki to try to kill her immediately once she finally lets him go, so she spent most of her free time studying spell books trying to find a solution to performing an unbreakable vow without a binder.

Meanwhile, Odin quickly and quietly dispatched a search party including himself, Thor, and the Warriors Three. They split up and searched the Nine Realms for Loki. Thor looked for his missing brother in earnest, while Odin searched because he suspected Loki had betrayed them somehow and as a way to appease Thor.

His old age had made him increasingly paranoid thinking that perhaps Loki disappeared to gather forces against Asgard. Ever since Loki learned how to hide from Heimdall’s sight, Odin had been concerned. After all,Loki snuck into Jotunheim, bedded a giant, fathered children without any of their knowledge. Perhaps he already discovered the truth of his heritage. Odin knew it was him that entered the vault that day, but he dismissed it because nothing was taken. The Casket of Winters remained where it was.

Odin knew their search would eventually take them to Jotunheim, which was all too convenient for the King. He was adamant about completing the extraction sooner rather than later in case they alerted the giants, and Thor agreed that Loki’s children belonged with them in Asgard. Heimdall directed the Bifrost to take them where the children were kept. 

The retrieval was easier than they had anticipated. Thor and Odin entered Jotunheim without any resistance, which should have alarmed both of them. Once the light of the Bifrost disappeared they trekked in silence up the snow-covered mountain, which at first glance appeared deserted, looking for the hidden keep Heimdall said the children were staying.

Both Odin and Thor gripped their weapons as they trudged through the thick snow. Eyes and ears open, they waited for an ambush, but none came. Upon entering the open gates of the keep, they found it bereft of any defences. Even the doors to the structure were unlocked and left ajar.

As they advanced, they found the hall to be empty and sparse in furniture believing it to be abandoned. The why was at the forefront of their minds. Something was amiss, but they could not turn back now. 

“Father, perhaps we should go back. There’s nothing here.” Thor’s warm breath vaporized in the cold air. There was a pervasive chill inside the dark keep. Father and son were unbothered thanks to the Jotunn blood that circulated in their veins, but Thor was impatient. “We should have waited for Loki to do this.”

“Loki is nowhere to be found,” Odin reminded him. He held up his hand, shushing his son. His keen ears picked up the sound of a crackling fire, which was strange. The Jotunns did not like fire. “We shall keep going. Heimdall said that they were here. A more thorough search will be necessary.”

They walked further along the corridor. The clink of their armour and thumping of their heavy footsteps echoed against the unadorned walls. If the frost giants were to attack they would have already done so. They were not exactly discreet.

They came to the end of the corridor meeting closed doors. A faint light emitted through the cracks. Odin placed his hand on the door and pushed it open enough to reveal a room with a hearth at the centre. It was lit with a fire, a strange sight in Jotunheim bathing the room in a warm orange glow. A silver serpent laid in front of it coiled into itself, its shimmering scales reflected the light. Odin pushed the door open further until he set his eye on the second inhabitant. A black wolf laid sleeping close to the serpent. The cub that they had been expecting was larger than any wolf Odin or Thor had seen. He appeared to be keeping his brother warm.

The door scraped against the floor alerting the wolf. An eye peeked opened before he lifted his head. “Are you here to save us?” asked the wolf speaking perfectly in the language of man. He sat perfectly still except for his wagging tail. 

Thor pushed open the other door now that they had been discovered. “In a way. We are taking you home, to Asgard.”

“Where’s that?”

Thor opened his mouth to answer, but Odin raised his hand once more to silence him, annoyed that his firstborn was so forthright and trusting. “Tell me what happened here.” He surveyed the room with his eye. Judging by the state of it, Odin surmised the younglings had been abandoned for some time.

“My brother and I have been living here since they took us from the cave where we were born.”

“The Frost Giants?”

“Yes, they have since left.” His eyes were the exact shade as Loki’s.

“Why?”

“Perhaps it was too much for them to take care of us.”

Odin considered his words carefully and found that explanation plausible. The serpent did not belong in the harsh cold unforgiving climate of Jotunheim. Their rivers and lakes were frozen forcing it to live above ground in a constant state of hibernation to conserve its life force. As for the wolf given his large size must be eating entire stores of the Frost Giant’s food, and they already lived in a barren wasteland with a perpetual winter. “What is your name?”

“Fenris,” answered the wolf, “my brother’s name is Jormungandr. What do you intend to do with us?”

“We’re going to take you away from here. This place…” Odin gestured, “is not the most ideal environment for your kind.”

Fenris stood on his four legs. “I agree. My brother has been ill recently. He needs the sun.”

“We know just the place.”

~*~

It all seemed too easy. Thor and Odin split up and that was their first mistake. The Bifrost returned Odin to Asgard with Fenris and sent Thor to Midgard with Jormungandr. They were to return to Jotunheim together to search for Loki again once the children were settled.

Thor slung the sleeping serpent over his shoulder like a coil of rope. Heimdall sent him to a place he had never been. It was a long stretch of coast covered in sand on the Western side of what would be later called Australia where it met the Indian Ocean.

His boots sunk into the sand, and he tasted salt in the warm breeze. “This will be your home from now on.”

The heat from the sun seemed to revive Jormungandr. He stirred eyes blinking, unlike his brother he didn’t speak the language of man. Instead, he hissed, his forked tongue darted in and out of its mouth tasting its surroundings.

Gifted with Allspeak, Thor understood the hisses. It loosely translated to  _ water...sea...sun...warmth.  _ Snake language apparently was very simple and didn’t have much syntax.

“You like it?” Thor asked. It was beautiful and untouched by man, the white sand, the blue-green waters. He ran his hand over the scales. He had always been fond of snakes. 

Jormungandr raised its head facing Thor. Like his brother, he had Loki’s eyes,  _ “yessss,” _ he hissed. Then he slithered off of Thor landing in the warm sand dragging its belly toward the water. Just before he reached the edge he raised himself to his full height and Thor had thought he meant to thank him but instead, he struck Thor in his arm.

“Argh!” Surprised, Thor hissed grabbing his arm. He had the worst luck with snakes despite his profound love of them. The venom seeped into his skin burning him from the inside. When he looked up, just as quickly the serpent struck, it disappeared into the waves.

Thor was not one to be bested and decided to pursue Jormungandr. He was a strong swimmer, and he was not going to let him get away. As soon as he dived into the water the Bifrost summoned him back.

Standing back at the observatory soaking wet, Thor roared. “Why have you brought me back?! Did you see what happened? I have to catch-”

“It’s the King,” Heimdall said, “he’s been gravely injured.”

“What? How?”

“The wolf turned on him shortly after leaving here.”

“It was a trap.” Thor realized gripping his arm where the bite was. “Where is he?”

“Your father is in the hall of Eir being tended to and Fenris has been shackled and caged in the dungeons. Guards have been placed around his cell.”

Mjolnir spinning, he flew through the air to the healing room. He burst through the vaulted doors to find his father lying on the bed with Eir and Frigga gathered around casting the golden veil, which hovered over him preparing the King for Odinsleep.

“Thor!” Frigga rushed over to her son, “what happened?” She spotted the wound on his arm.

“It was a trap. The Frost Giants must have wanted us to take them. Father,” he reached Odin’s bedside in a few strides. Blood had poured from his neck where he was bitten staining the sheets red. Eir managed to stop the major bleeding by binding the wound with bandages soaked in medicinal herbs that encourage clotting. Her hands and robes covered in his blood. 

“Thor, my son,” Odin struggled to breathe. “I don’t have much time. You are King now.” His hands and arms were covered with more bite marks and gashes. Blood seeped out of every wound. He gripped Thor by the back of his neck with his bloody hand pulling him to his face so he could whisper in Thor’s ear while Eir’s back was turned, “marry the mortal.” His eyes closed and his arm dropped almost as if the pronouncement drained the rest of his life force.

“Wait, what? Why? I don’t understand, father.” Thor shook Odin. “FATHER!!”

“Thor, you have to let him go!” Frigga came up behind and pulled at him with little success. “THOR! Please!” 

Eir manoeuvred around Thor because nothing was going to get in her way of saving their King. “He needs to sleep now.” The shimmering gold veil descended sealing Odin inside his makeshift tomb. 

Thor backed away from the bed. His chest tightened with an unfamiliar feeling. It was not in Thor’s DNA to feel sadness or fear. They were quickly replaced with anger and vengeance.

Frigga fell by Odin’s bedside and sobbed, “what is happening to our family?” Her hands touched the edge of the veil unable to reach her husband. 

“I don’t know.” Thor’s fingers twitched by his side. Electricity crackled between them, “what happens now?”

Frigga turned to her remaining son, her heart and limbs heavy with sorrow. Her voice was quiet. “We wait.”

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I had to condense a lot of the interactions from Half Blood Prince (the book verse) in order to make the scene Hermione and Harry are arguing more canon compliant. I’m not purposely trying to rehash canon or anything, but as I’m writing this and rereading parts of canon, I noticed that the details were much more different than I remember thanks to the movies and reading fanfiction over the years. It’s been an interesting exercise…


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